Problem Girl
by Jesse A. Harper
Summary: The rules to dimension-hopping, Jesse realized numbly, were fairly simple. 1  Meddle not in the affairs of demi-gods, for they're quick to anger and will make your life a living hell. 2  Never let a very annoying archangel decide that you're 'interesting'
1. Chapter 1: Deep Trouble

_Don't let 'em get where they're going to  
You know they're only what they think of you  
You heard of this emotional trickery  
And you felt like you were learning the ropes  
But where you're going now you don't know_

And when the kids on the street say  
What's your problem girl  
And the weight of their smile's just  
Too much for you to bear  
When they all make you feel  
Like you're a problem girl  
Remember  
You're no problem at all  
You're no problem at all

-"Problem Girl" by **Rob Thomas**

**Problem Girl**

"They say the world is a stage. But obviously the play is unrehearsed and everybody is ad-libbing his lines." – Calvin

"Maybe that's why it's hard to tell if we're living in a tragedy or a farce." – Hobbes

"We need more special effects and dance numbers." – Calvin, _Calvin and Hobbes_

**Chapter One: Deep Trouble**

_Tempe, Arizona 2010_

"And as you can see, there are a great deal of problems with the actual survey. First of all there's canonicity, or the ideal body type for the period. An example would be comparing the ideology of Michelangelo's _David_ to-"

Jesse groaned as she reclined back in her very uncomfortable chair, fidgeting in her seat even as she tried to ignore the ever-increasing numbness in her backside. Her Art History lecture teacher – sorry, _professor_, got to remember, it's college now, and they get really cranky if you call them teachers – had one of those voices. It was the monotone voice that kept threatening you with the embarrassment of conking out right in class, even if you _didn't_ want to.

Sorry, but that was not gonna happen today.

The woman twitched as she sat up again, shifting around anxiously in her seat as she glanced around the lecture hall, hazel eyes darting from the projection screen with the very bland set of notes that she had already copied, to the set of metal doors off to the side, to the sports watch strapped firmly around her left wrist. Damn, it was only 4:37. She still had eight more minutes until the end of class.

With a sigh of resignation, she sank back down into her seat, her right leg jiggling from what could only be pent-up nervous energy even as she reached out with one hand to steady the laptop that was balanced rather precariously on the knee of the leg that wasn't bouncing slightly. Normally, she didn't have a problem with how long class actually ran, but today was different.

Today, she had somewhere to be.

A small smile flitted across Jesse's face as she allowed her thoughts to drift, her eyes glazing over faintly in the process. By the time that she actually got out of class, took the bus out to the parking lot on the other side of campus, and got on to the freeway, well, she already knew her schedule well enough by now to know that the task could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to half an hour, depending on whether or not she managed to catch one of the earlier shuttles. Hopefully, she could get out of class and make it to the bus stop before it got too crowded. Standing packed among a bunch of other people and holding on to a strap as the bus driver drove like a rally car racer was definitely not her idea of fun.

Last time she'd done that, she swore that her right arm had almost been jerked out of its socket.

"A true art student must internalize these lessons, seeing Art History as given, natural, and self-evident. In the survey, what is being taught 'appears before us as a given that pre-exists art history and not as the ideological sedimentation of the practices of art historians'. So, according to the newer 'philosophers' of the art world, art is supposed to be-"

It was at that precise moment that her cell phone started buzzing, and Jesse jerked involuntarily in her seat before she shoved her hand into the pocket of jeans and pulled the device out. With a quick glance up at the professor – who was still going on and on about how art was not 'dead' – the young woman carefully flipped her phone open, noting absent-mindedly that it was a text from her brother. The message 'You're old!' appeared on the inside screen of her phone, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes in response.

'Want me to forward this message to Mom?' she typed back, and smirked as she hit send. Andy was a good kid – well, technically twenty didn't exactly count as being a 'kid' – but there were just some times when he really got on her nerves. He was still her little brother though, even if he was taller than her now.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time the words 'You suck' greeted her. Jesse cocked an eyebrow in response before she shook her head and entered the message of 'Love you too, little brother'.

Seconds later, he responded with the wonderful sentiment of 'Senility is setting in now. I'm not little.'

Jesse bit back a laugh as she brought up her left hand to conceal the fact that she was smiling. Yeah, she had definitely hit a nerve with that last text. Andy hated it when she called him little, especially since he was now a very lanky Air Force cadet, who stood at 6'0 and had a very intimidating 'do not screw with me' face. With that thought, she snapped her phone shut and stuffed it back into her pocket. A quick glance at the clock on her laptop showed that it was now 4:43, and the woman grinned broadly before she glanced up at the overhead projector.

Okay, no new notes were up there yet. She might just be home free here.

"-that's it. Okay people, I will see you all on Wednesday."

"Thank you," Jesse sighed as she sank down into her seat and quickly shut down her laptop, pausing only long enough to save the notes that she had typed up. With a precise 'snap', she closed the black laptop and stuffed it into one of the compartments of her backpack before she zipped it up and easily shouldered the canvas bag.

Awkwardly, she stumbled out into one of the aisles once the rest of the people in her row had left, and quickly zipped over towards one of the back exits. The only good thing about the layout of her classroom was the fact that most of the people sat in the front – the AC was better down there – so the back exits didn't get crowded as fast. Jesse grinned eagerly as the soles of her black Converse slapped against the concrete floor before she reached for the door –

And promptly bounced off against it.

"What the hell?" she growled as she stumbled backwards, shaking her head slightly before she stared at the metal door and let out an annoyed huff. Someone from the next class was probably sitting up against it or something.

Good thing the fire marshal wasn't there, otherwise that someone would definitely be on the receiving end of a serious ass-chewing.

The woman rolled her eyes before she stepped up to the door and shoved her shoulder up against it, pressing her hands firmly against the bar that was supposed to unlatch the door. Nothing. It still wouldn't budge.

"Oh, come on!" Jesse snapped as she reached out and slammed the palm of her right hand against the metal, creating a loud 'thud'. "Dude, stop sitting in front of the door! People are trying to get out over here!"

There was no reply, and Jesse frowned as she took a step back and glared at the door. Okay, this was just getting ridiculous. If this was some football player's idea of a joke, then the coach was definitely not going to be happy with her, 'cause she was going to kick this guy's ass. Already there were people piling up behind her, wanting to know what was going on. The woman sighed before she threw herself up against the door once again, and this time it actually gave way a little.

"Finally," she sighed as she shoved the door open, and stumbled out into a glaringly white hallway.

Jesse flinched as she instinctively took a step backwards, her nostrils flaring as the sterile stench that could only be found in one place filled her nose. She looked around her with wide eyes, her mind temporarily shorting out for a second before she spun around and reached for the door that she had come through. This was definitely not the Life Sciences wing, and there was definitely something wrong with this whole situation. The door that she had just gone out was supposed to lead to a small set of stairs _outside_.

Her hand closed around the door knob and she immediately jerked it open. The damp interior of a mop closet greeted her instead of the lecture hall that she had just exited, and Jesse frowned as she stared at it intently. Slowly, she released the door handle and let it close, the hair all along the back of her spine prickling uncomfortably as she did so.

Okay, this was more than a little weird, even by her standards.

"The hell?" she finally muttered, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as she reached up and dragged her fingers through her sandy-brown hair, pulling her long bangs away from her face. It almost looked like she was in the hallway of a hospital.

A shudder briefly coursed through her body as she tightened her grip on the strap of her backpack, which was still slung on a single strap over her right shoulder. She _hated_ hospitals, and with good reason. Way too many people that she'd cared for had been in them. Jesse shifted uncertainly in her spot, adjusting the bag nervously, before she reached down and absent-mindedly wiped the palm of her hand against the leg of her jeans. How in the world had she ended up in a hospital anyways?

She gave a wry snort as she rolled her eyes, a thought coming to mind. Maybe she had fallen asleep in class. Talk about embarrassing. Hopefully, if that was the case, the professor wouldn't notice and draw attention to her lack of consciousness.

"So, this is a dream," Jesse said as she gave a slightly self-depreciating grin. "Fun times. Instead of Alice in Wonderland, it's Jesse in _House_. All I need now is for Hugh Laurie to gimp past me and make some kind of smart-assed comment."

When the actor in question didn't waltz past on command, the woman smirked dryly before she shrugged and started to head down the hallway. Hey, if this was indeed a dream, then she might as well enjoy it. Besides, it wasn't like the back door to her Art History lecture hall would just _magically_ lead to some random hospital mop closet, especially since she had used said door on multiple occasions without it ever doing anything odd.

The second that she rounded the corner into the next hallway, it was like the hospital had exploded into life. Nurses were wandering all over the place holding clipboards; the intercom was going into overtime, and doctors were going about their business. The only thing that really struck Jesse as odd was the fact that pretty much all of the medical staff there seemed to be woman.

"O-kay, Weirdie McWeirderson," she muttered as she pressed her back up against a nearby wall to avoid being run over by some lady who was barking out orders to an orderly, who was occupied with the task of wheeling a guy to an operating room.

Neither one of them paid any attention to her, and Jesse relaxed slightly even as she continued to make her way down the corridor, although she felt distinctly out of place in the dark green roll-tab button down and russet t-shirt that she was wearing, especially when everyone else seemed to be wearing scrubs and lab coats.

It seemed almost like there weren't actually any normal people here, which was really kind of creepy. Usually you saw people going back and forth, doing various things like relaying news on their cell phone or getting something to eat as they waited for news of their loved ones. Instead, there was maybe one other person who walked past her wearing street clothes. Everyone else was just another doctor or nurse, with maybe the occasional patient being wheeled by in a wheelchair or on gurney.

It was almost like nobody here was actually real.

Jesse shuddered slightly at the thought and increased her pace. Whatever this place was, she wanted out, and she wanted out _now_. Even if it seemed like there was nothing wrong with the place, something about it just didn't sit right with her. In a way, the setting seemed kind of familiar, like she had seen it somewhere before. Then again, the entire setup just creeped the ever-loving shit out of her, and she had no clue why.

And then, as if the whole 'appearing in a random hospital' thing wasn't freaky enough, everyone around her just suddenly froze in their spots. Jesse froze in her tracks, her breath catching in her throat as she stared incredulously at the nurse in front of her who had just stopped, somehow impossibly frozen right in the middle of the act of slipping on an expanse of freshly-mopped tile. It looked like the woman, who couldn't have been much older than she was, had just been in the middle of the act before someone hit the 'pause' button on a remote.

The only problem with that little analogy was the fact there was none of the typical fuzziness on the 'screen' that would indicate towards something being paused.

Jesse glanced around her frantically, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps as she stared at the still figures around her in horror before she could have sworn that she saw a flicker of movement down at the other end of the hallway. She immediately took off running down the sterile corridor, heading away from the movement as fast as she could.

Common sense dictated that if everyone else was frozen and she wasn't, if something was moving asides from her, there were usually some pretty decent odds that it probably wasn't anything good. Adrenaline flooded her veins as she whipped through another hallway full of still figures, and she couldn't help the slightly panicked whimper that escaped from the back of her throat. This was like a bad dream; she didn't dare look back, because she was afraid that if she did she'd see that everyone who'd been frozen would be chasing after her.

Finally, Jesse burst out into the lobby area of the hospital, and she immediately streaked towards the sliding doors that led out of the freaky building. She was too intent on getting the hell out of Dodge to notice the startled "Hey!" that her sudden appearance provoked from a small group of men that was standing close to the entrance of one of the hallways. Right then, she could have cared less about whether or not there were people who weren't frozen in that stupid place. All that mattered was her getting the hell out of there.

There was only one problem with that plan; the door that led to the outside was closed, and apparently just as frozen in whatever creepy little time-lock the place was in as the people were. Unfortunately, that thought didn't occur to Jesse until she was only about four or five feet away from the door, and still doing her impression of a bat out of Hell.

"Crap!' she yelped as she tried to skid to a stop, only to slip on a trail of water that ended right in front of the sliding doors, most likely tracked in from people coming in from outside, where it was pouring rain. She crashed to the floor face-first in a truly painful and spectacular manner only a foot away from the door – more than close enough to set off the motion detector – and let out a pained groan as her elbows and forearms started to shriek in protest at the movement. Yeah, that was definitely gonna leave a mark.

"Ow, dammit, ow," the woman hissed as she propped herself up on her forearms, wincing as the movement pulled at already-developing bruises, before she glared at the automatic door. It hadn't even budged. "Stupid door."

A low chuckle came from somewhere behind her before the person grabbed her by the back of her backpack and hauled her up to her feet. Jesse grinned faintly as she turned around to thank the person who had helped her up – even if this was some weirdo dream, it couldn't hurt to be polite – and froze. The grinning, impish face of the man who had hauled her to her feet was one that she recognized almost instantly, and she immediately recoiled, ripping herself free from his grasp.

"What the bloody hell?" she demanded as her back slammed up against the still-unmoving doors, eyes wide as she gaped incredulously at… Richard Speight Jr? Okay, this was definitely a dream. Weirder than some of her normal dreams – actually, scratch that. None of her dreams were ever normal. They always seemed to be weird, probably from her severely over reactive imagination.

But this? This was… different.

Jesse cautiously glanced over at the two men who were still standing numbly by the hallway entrance, and paled slightly before she managed to give a strained grin. Yep, she was right. Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki were standing over in the same spot, staring in her general direction with almost twin expressions of shock. She frowned slightly as she looked at the two men, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, before she shook her head and returned her attention back to the man who was standing right in front of her.

"Hello," he chirped brightly, a grin on his face even as he stared unnervingly at her. "So, where did you come from?"

Jesse blinked in surprise before she wordlessly reached up and pointed towards the hallway that she had come barreling out of not even a few minutes before. The man gave her an almost insulted look in response, one that plainly said 'I knew _that_'.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said suddenly, and Jesse stared at him curiously before she caught the flicker of irritation that flashed through his eyes. An odd sinking feeling suddenly developed in the pit of her stomach and she tried to dart off to the side, to where her back wasn't pressed up against the wall, only to be brought up short by the hand that suddenly wrapped itself around her left upper arm in an iron grip. "Now tell me where you came from."

"ASU." The answer slipped from her mouth without even thinking, the majority of her brain far more occupied with the fact that every survival instinct she possessed was _screaming_ at her to run like hell.

The grip on her arm tightened, and there was a sharp intake of breath as Jesse gritted her teeth to keep from either yelping or swearing, flinching automatically even as she tried to pull away from the man. That _hurt_. Dreams weren't supposed to hurt, not like that. Not unless she was somehow digging her fingers unto her own arm while she was asleep. But if she was, why hadn't anyone woken her up yet?

"_Schise_," she finally hissed, a single nagging thought coming to mind as she stared at the man who was still digging his fingers unrelentingly into her upper arm. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

Amber-green eyes crinkled in amusement even as the man – was he really a man, or something else entirely? – tilted his head to the side slightly in an almost birdlike gesture.

"Why do you think that?" he asked cheerfully. Jesse gave him a look that plainly conveyed her thoughts of 'you can't be serious' even as she smiled nervously.

"'Cause this is… pretty weird, even for one of my dreams," she admitted. "Of course, if this isn't a dream, then my only other option is that I've gone insane." She pulled a face at the thought. "Insanity… yeah, not fun. I'd like to skip that, if at all possible."

The grin from the man widened even as he released Jesse from his grasp. She immediately backed up, eyeing the smirking male warily before she started to look for an exit. Usually if you questioned something in a dream, you woke up, right? So why wasn't that happening?

"Hey kiddo." Jesse's head jerked up in surprise as she stared at the man – _Trickster_, her mind nagged incessantly – and flinched slightly at the considering look on his face. Something told her that wherever this was going, it was not gonna be fun. "What makes you think that this is a dream?"

Jesse looked at him in confusion, and the man smirked before he flicked his hand at her. Without any sort of warning whatsoever, the ground beneath her feet felt like it was literally ripped out from under her, sending the young woman crashing to her knees. Polished white tile met kneecaps with a sharp 'crack', and Jesse let out a loud cry of pain even as she curled in on herself, her eyes watering with pain.

"_Merde, kuso, schise,_ frickin'… ow," she gritted out through clenched teeth, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the glaringly white sneakers that were on the Trickster's feet. Okay, that had definitely felt real.

"Still think this is a dream?" the demi-god's voice asked in a lightly teasing tone from somewhere above her, and Jesse managed to force herself up into a crouching position even as her knees shrieked in agony. She would not kneel in front of this arrogant bastard, not if this was indeed what she thought this was.

"No, now I think I'm in serious need of some psychiatric help," she managed to state flatly, her tone sharp even as she gingerly maneuvered herself into a standing position. At the slightly amused look that she received in response, she bristled visibly. "Don't you look at me that way, you condescending prick! I'm standing here in a freaking fictional hospital, getting into an argument with a bloody _television_ character about whether or not I'm dreaming!"

The Trickster opened his mouth to say something, but Jesse interrupted him as she backed away, shaking her head in blatant denial as she brought her hands up clapped them over her head, pulling back her bangs as she did so.

"This isn't real," she insisted, the heels of her palms digging into the sides of her skull as she continued to back up. "I'm hallucinating, or going crazy, or _something_. You're not real. None of this is real! It _can't_ be real!"

"Oh, believe me sister, I feel for you there," a low voice muttered from somewhere off to her right, and Jesse whipped around to stare at the man who had spoken. It was Jensen Ackles… no, Dean Winchester. If the man that she was currently arguing with was the Trickster, then this guy had to be Dean. There was no other explanation.

Jesse flinched as she gaped at him before she said a single word that summed up pretty much everything.

"Crap."

A loud laugh rang out behind them, and Jesse turned back around to look at the Trickster, who was grinning energetically at them.

"Looks like De Nile isn't just a river now, huh?" he cracked as he gestured meaningfully at the young woman and the two men behind her. "So, I take it that you already know these two chuckleheads?"

Her jaw tightened as she scowled at the being. "No."

The Trickster actually pouted as he flung his arms out wide before he smirked at the three of them. "Well kiddies, looks like we'll be changing things around a little bit."

He favored Jesse with a challenging look, almost as though he was daring her to object. She just clamped her mouth shut and stood there, each of her hands wrapped tightly around the opposite elbow in a white-knuckled grip. In the small corner of her mind that was still capable of rational though, even as the rest gibbered senselessly in fear, she realized that this was real. The shrieking pain of her kneecaps wouldn't allow her to think anything else.

"Since the two muttonheads who went and broke the world have now come crawling to me to help sweep up their mess, we're gonna play a little game." The cheery smile on the Trickster's face was firmly at odds with the sinking feeling in Jesse's gut. "Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk."

"Survive what?" Dean asked, and Jesse jerked in surprise as she realized that the man had come up right behind her. The Trickster actually looked offended by his question.

"The _game_," he said meaningfully, his tone strongly implying 'you idiot' as he gestured broadly to their surroundings.

"What game?"

"You're in it."

Jesse gave the Trickster a stunned and horrified glance before she buried her face in her hands and groaned. This was not going to end well, she knew that much already.

"How do we play?" Dean queried, and the Trickster shrugged enigmatically in response.

"You're playing it," he said in a falsely thoughtful manner. Jesse looked up at him and barely managed to bite back the comment of 'Are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?' that she so badly wanted to use. At this point, keeping her mouth shut was her best option. The less she revealed that she knew, the better.

"What are the rules?"

The Trickster merely smirked and wiggled his eyebrows in a purely aggravating manner before he just fizzed out, kind of like a burst of static on a television screen. Everyone started moving again, and Jesse was left standing next to two very confused men in dark blue scrubs and white lab coats. She stared out at the suddenly busy hospital for a few moments, obviously trying to think of something logical, before she glanced over at the two men besides her. Two sets of green eyes stared back at her, one confused and slightly sympathetic, the other disbelieving.

For a second, she just looked at them, silently praying that this was all just a sick dream and that she'd wake up soon. Apparently whatever higher powers that might have been in the area weren't in a particularly charitable mood, because nothing happened. Finally, Dean stepped out in front of the woman and fixed her with an intimidating glare.

"And you are?" he asked pointedly, his tone indicating that if she answered wrong she'd be up Shit Creek before she could even say 'crud'. Jesse gave him a weak smile before she looked around her, taking in the clichéd chaos of Seattle Mercy Hospital.

"In deep, _deep_ shit."

* * *

Hello all, and welcome to the wonderful mess of insanity that is _Problem Girl_. To make a long and very boring story short, I got really tired of all of the 'big-time Supernatural fan somehow finds themselves in the world of their favorite show, finds Sam and Dean, and becomes some hot-shot hunter in no time at all' stories out there. But here's the kicker – how many people do you actually know who wouldn't like the show once they were actually _in_ it?

I also like to challenge myself by writing in a perspective that most people don't really consider. Well, that, and I bored.

So enjoy, and hopefully I'll see you all next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2: Fun and Games

_Hold it together, birds of a feather,  
Nothing but lies and crooked wings.  
I have the answer, spreading the cancer,  
You are the faith inside me._

No, don't  
Leave me to die here,  
Help me survive here.  
Alone, don't remember, remember.

Put me to sleep evil angel.  
Open your wings evil angel.

- "Evil Angel" by **Breaking Benjamin**

"Don't be breaking your shin on a stool that's not in your way." – Irish saying

**Chapter Two: Fun and Games**

_**Then:**_

"_Since the two muttonheads who went and broke the world have now come crawling to me to help sweep up their mess, we're gonna play a little game." The cheery smile on the Trickster's face was firmly at odds with the sinking feeling in Jesse's gut. "Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk."_

"_Survive what?" Dean asked, and Jesse jerked in surprise as she realized that the man had come up right behind her. The Trickster actually looked offended by his question._

"_The _game_," he said meaningfully, his tone strongly implying 'you idiot' as he gestured broadly to their surroundings._

"_What game?"_

"_You're in it."_

_Jesse gave the Trickster a stunned and horrified glance before she buried her face in her hands and groaned. This was not going to end well, she knew that much already._

"_How do we play?" Dean queried, and the Trickster shrugged enigmatically in response._

"_You're playing it," he said in a falsely thoughtful manner. Jesse looked up at him and barely managed to bite back the comment of 'Are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?' that she so badly wanted to use. At this point, keeping her mouth shut was her best option. The less she revealed that she knew, the better._

"_What are the rules?"_

_The Trickster merely smirked and wiggled his eyebrows in a purely aggravating manner before he just fizzed out, kind of like a burst of static on a television screen. Everyone started moving again, and Jesse was left standing next to two very confused men in dark blue scrubs and white lab coats. She stared out at the suddenly busy hospital for a few moments, obviously trying to think of something logical, before she glanced over at the two men besides her. Two sets of green eyes stared back at her, one confused and slightly sympathetic, the other disbelieving._

_For a second, she just looked at them, silently praying that this was all just a sick dream and that she'd wake up soon. Apparently whatever higher powers that might have been in the area weren't in a particularly charitable mood, because nothing happened. Finally, Dean stepped out in front of the woman and fixed her with an intimidating glare._

"_And you are?" he asked pointedly, his tone indicating that if she answered wrong she'd be up Shit Creek before she could even say 'crud'. Jesse gave him a weak smile before she looked around her, taking in the clichéd chaos of Seattle Mercy Hospital._

"_In deep, _deep _shit."_

_**Now:**_

Both men seemed genuinely surprised by her statement, and Jesse used their momentary shock to put some distance between her and Dean. She really did not want to be on the receiving end of any wrath that the man might be feeling, even as he let out the much-expected "Oh, son of a bitch."

The woman didn't say anything as she watched the two men, who turned around to stare at some blonde chick wandering past them looking for 'Doctor Sexy'. Jesse fought the very strong urge to gag as the sheer corniness of the whole thing. Seriously, what idiot had come up with this show? It was soft-core porn for a bunch of sex-deprived high-school and college guys!

"I hate my life," she finally muttered softly as she leaned back against a nearby wall and slowly dragged a hand down her face. She'd heard the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' used countless times over the course of her life, but this was just ridiculous.

Sure, she was a fan of the show _Supernatural_. She enjoyed the storyline, liked the definite family element that replaced the stereotypical 'friends running around kicking evil ass willy-nilly', and it didn't hurt that there were more than a few cute actors in the episodes. Heck, she and Carol had often held in-depth discussions about how they would change the course of things if they were actually in the show whenever they got together to watch some of the episodes. They were all theoretical though, just something to stretch the imagination and entertain themselves as they spun scenarios that were so ridiculous that you could only laugh at them.

But to actually end up in the show? That was impossible. That kind of stuff didn't happen outside of bad fan fiction, and Jesse knew that she definitely did _not_ fall into that category. There was a definite difference between real life and what was put up on the Internet.

And if that wasn't enough, the girls in the fan fiction stories were always weepy, emo little brats who had fallen in love with the characters, were abused by one or more of their parents, and wished somehow that they could escape the hell that their lives were (and go to _real_ Hell), at least before they magically woke up in the _Supernatural_ world, where they were immediately accepted by Sam and Dean, and became hot-shot hunters with little to no effort at all. Shortly thereafter, one of the brothers would then fall in love with little miss Mary-Sue (they were always named Mary-Sue it seemed), and they would then proceed to live happily ever after while popping out a billion chubby little Winchester babies. Or, even worse, they would somehow turn out to be Castiel's one true love, and they would teach the angel what being human was all about.

Now if that mental image wasn't high-octane Nightmare Fuel, then she didn't know what was.

And on top of that, they almost always had odd-colored eyes, some form of a supernatural power or ability, and looked like the epitome of female beauty. It was truly nauseating to see what the hormone-filled minds of a bunch of teenage girls could dream up.

Jesse shuddered violently at the image, and cringed at the thought. It was kind of a toss-up between the Mary-Sues and the yaoi as to what was more disgusting.

She was nothing like that though. She had just turned twenty-two, and by just she meant that her birthday was today, she was going to college, and she had never wished for anything like this in her entire life. Her parents loved her dearly, and her brother, as annoying as he could be, was pretty cool. She came from a normal, well-adjusted family, she had a career path in mind, and she definitely didn't believe in ghosts and other crap. Jesse gritted her teeth in frustration as she opened her eyes and glared daggers down at the tiled floor.

Okay, so she was getting an art degree, which was kind of lame, but there was a point to it. Seriously, becoming an animator was good business, especially in this day and age of video games and computer graphics.

Jesse was roughly snapped out of her silent fuming when someone shoved their hand under her nose and snapped their fingers, making her jerk back reflexively as she whipped her head to stare up at Dean, who was giving her a somewhat irritated look.

"Okay space-case," he said shortly as he fixed the younger woman with a stern glare. "Who are you?"

For one moment, she considered giving a name from one of the many stories that she had floating around on her hard drive, and then decided against it. She had her wallet on her, and everything in there had her ID on it. Lying would only get her in more trouble right now, and it definitely wasn't worth the problems that it would cause.

"Jesse," she muttered softly as she fixed her gaze on a point just below the man's face. "My name's Jesse Harper."

Sam flinched slightly at her name, and Jesse felt that much worse as the nagging, overtly cynical part of her mind chose that precise moment to very kindly point out the fact that Jesse could be short for 'Jessica'. She managed to flash the man a somewhat strained grin in response before she averted her gaze, not wanting to be under the collective scrutiny of the two Winchesters for any longer than necessary. When she tried to sidle away though, Dean's hand shot out and seized her by the front of her overshirt before he pressed her painfully up against the wall.

"This is real cute and all, but we don't have time for this," he growled warningly. "So why don't you just go and disappear back to whatever hole the Trickster pulled you out of."

The woman flinched at the sheer amount of hostility in Dean's voice, a little caught off-guard, before she looked up and glared defiantly in response. Okay, she was done with being nice and polite now. It was time to pull on her big girl panties and step up to the plate.

"I am _not_ one of that… _asshole's_ little facsimiles," she growled, hazel eyes narrowed into a decidedly irritated glare. "Now let go of me."

Before the man could make any smart-assed comments about how that was what the Trickster _wanted_ them to believe, Sam suddenly stepped up behind him and stared at the young woman intently.

"Earlier, when you said that you came from ASU, what did you mean by that?" he asked softly, and Jesse gave a soft huff of wry amusement even as she cocked an eyebrow slightly.

"Arizona State University," she replied shortly. "I go to school there. One second I was in my Art History classroom, walking out the door, and then the next I'm in here. Thought I was dreaming at first, but apparently I'm not that lucky."

"Dreaming, huh?" Sam commented wryly, and Jesse moved her shoulders in what was supposed to be a shrug, but looked more like an incredibly awkward jerk instead. "You still think this is a dream then?"

"Um, no. I stopped thinking that after I got kneecapped by the deranged doctor wannabe with ninja skills."

For one second it looked like Dean was going to bust a gut trying not to laugh at the wry comment that had been delivered with a perfectly straight face, and Jesse smiled hesitantly in return. However, Dean accidentally tightened his grip on the front of her shirt, prompting a slight noise from the woman. Sam glanced over at her before he gave his brother a meaningful glance and Dean grudgingly released the front of her shirt, giving Jesse an opportunity to scoot out of immediate snatching range.

The two men seemed slightly caught off-guard by her sudden retreat, before Dean shrugged and grinned easily at her.

"So, college eh?" he asked dryly. "You one of those child geniuses or something? I mean you have to be, to get into college at your age."

Jesse cocked an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a wry smirk, before she gave the older man what Andy had affectionately dubbed her 'piss off and die' smile as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"And what, pray tell, do you think my age is?" she asked icily. Sam stared at her intently for a second before he looked over at Dean and shook his head, trying to signal to his brother that he was treading on dangerous territory. The eldest Winchester ignored him as he gave Jesse what he apparently thought to be a roguishly charming smile.

"Sixteen, tops," he stated confidently.

Jesse gave him a flat look in response before she sighed and shook her head.

"You're off by about six years there, pal," she stated in a patiently resigned tone, like one who had heard that particular statement frequently and had long-since given up on protesting to the fact. "I'm twenty-two."

Dean gaped at her in response, and Jesse allowed a small smile to creep across her lips. It was definitely annoying when people thought that she was underage, but it was so worth it sometimes when she could see the stunned looks on their faces when they found out how old she really was.

"Now, if you two will excuse me, I'm gonna go look for a way out of this nuthouse. Later." She inclined her head slightly as she gave the brothers an appropriately jaunty two-fingered salute before she turned around and started to walk away.

Jesse waited until she had rounded a corner and was a ways down the hallway before she checked to make sure that she hadn't been followed, and then sagged against the wall as her legs lost pretty much all their strength.

"Oh God," she muttered weakly as she reached up and ran a hand through her bangs, her face pale as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her. "I am screwed, I am screwed, I am _so_ screwed." A frantic, helpless sob bubbled up from somewhere within her throat, and the young woman directed her gaze up towards the ceiling, her expression pained. "Oh God."

"That's called blasphemy, you know."

The woman let out a soft groan as she closed her eyes, wiping away any trace of the previous fear and bewilderment that had been on her face, and dropped into a crouch, wincing visibly as her knees very loudly reminded her of the abuse that they'd just been put through. She really did not want to deal with the Trickster right now. What she needed was to find someplace quiet so she could clear her head and think for a little bit, figure out her options.

And once she was done with that, maybe she could figure out how in the seven hells she had ended up in _Changing Channels_. Sure, it had been one of her favorite episodes back home – she had taped it when it had first run on TV and replayed it several times, along with _Swan Song_ – but never in a million years had she ever thought that she'd actually be in it. So yeah, prioritizing was definitely needed if she wanted to escape from this fiasco with her sanity reasonably intact. But that would have to come after she had dealt with the 'Trickster'.

"It's not blasphemy if I'm legitimately praying for guidance," Jesse pointed out flatly, keeping her eyes closed so she wouldn't have to look at one Trickster/Archangel's smugly grinning face. Because she knew that the second she did, she would lose every last shred of self-control that she actually possessed and sucker-punch the pagan god wanna-be right in the face. "And right now, I think I need a little guidance."

A heavy silence hung between the two for a moment before Jesse heard the tell-tale sound of sneakers on tile, and knew that Gabriel was standing right in front of her. Slowly, she got to her feet, keeping her eyes closed as she did so. If she was going to be on the receiving end of some Archangel-sized wrath, then she wanted to face it standing up.

Slowly, deliberately, she opened her eyes and fixed the man in front of her with a stubborn, defiant glare. He stared at her for a few moments, smirking – almost as though he knew exactly what she was trying to do – before his expression became serious.

"Why are you here?"

The question was simple and to the point, and the words slipped out of Jesse's mouth as easy as breathing before she could even think to put a block on her mouth.

"An existential question. I recommend Tibetan monks for that one," she quipped, and then winced before she facepalmed, a frustrated groan escaping from her lips. "Okay, I seriously need a delete key for my life. Or at least my mouth."

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow as he smirked knowingly at her, and Jesse gave him an appropriately wary look in response.

"That was amusing," he said, an easy grin on his face. "Now seriously kid, how did you get here?"

The woman stared at him before she heaved a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest, fixing her eyes on some point below Gabriel's just so she wouldn't have to deal with the knowledge that she was actually talking to an _archangel_, much less staring him right in the eyes. If her grandmother were there… well, she didn't know what she'd do. But she would definitely have a heart attack or something along a similar vein if she ever knew that Jesse had smarted off to an angel.

Not that she was ever going to mention this little psychotic episode to anyone, not even her best friend. The last thing that she needed was people thinking that she Koo-Koo for Coco Puffs, a few fries short of a Happy Meal, or any other synonym for being completely and totally nuts.

"Seriously, all joking aside?" Jesse asked as she spread her arms out, palms flat as she gestured broadly to the sterile hallway around her. "I don't know, okay? I literally do not know. One second I'm walking out of my last class, getting ready to get on the bus so I can go home, and the next I'm here, walking out of a freaking mop closet." Brown eyes narrowed as a disbelieving look crossed Gabriel's face, and Jesse bared her teeth unconsciously in a silent snarl as she straightened up to her full – and highly unimpressive – height of 5'5 before she jabbed a finger right into the angel's chest. "Look you, I have no clue what in the hell is going on, so get off my case! I didn't do anything!"

Odd copper-green eyes narrowed slightly – they weren't hazel, Andy's eyes were hazel, and they didn't give her the shaking willies the way that these did – and any traces of humor faded from them completely.

It was right about then that Jesse realized that she was deliberately antagonizing an archangel, something that could reduce her to nothing with just a thought. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes dilated, and she somehow managed to slide off to the side in a futile attempt to put some distance between her and Gabriel. Not that that did anything to discourage him. He crossed that meager distance in the time it took for her to blink, and Jesse gasped as he reached out and grabbed her by the front of her shirt, pressing her firmly against the wall.

"That still doesn't answer my question," Gabriel said as he gave the woman a humorless smile, one that was all teeth and offered just a glimpse of why he was so good at playing Loki. She shuddered slightly as she tried not to show just how nervous she was, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps even as she clapped her right hand over the forearm of the hand he was using to hold her, recently-clipped nails digging slightly into a flesh that she knew housed something far older and more powerful than any human.

Gabriel seemed to notice this, and he quirked an eyebrow curiously before he looked her right in the eyes.

"And while you're at it, maybe you'll want to explain the little 'fictional character' rant you went off on to me," he prodded meaningfully.

Jesse actually started to physically shake at that statement, her eyes widening as a strangled noise escaped from her throat. As badly as she wanted to deny it, she was terrified. The… the thing in front of her could kill her easily if she annoyed him too much, had done it before, would most likely do it again.

"You're Loki." The hoarse statement just slipped out before she could even think about it, and the archangel twitched visibly at the use of his pagan alias. Yeah, she had definitely struck a nerve with that one. "You're real."

He gave a somewhat scornful snort as he stared the young woman down, and she flinched before she looked down at her feet, silently wishing that she was anywhere but there.

"How do you know that?" he asked softly. Jesse bit down on her lip as she kept her gaze averted, trying to figure out what she was going to say. If she told him the truth, all holy hell would break loose, but if she lied to him, he'd probably do something worse. Not to mention the fact that he'd start trying to figure out what she was trying to hide.

It was right about then something that she'd heard once came to mind; _"The best lies are the ones that have a grain of truth to them."_

And wasn't _Supernatural_ a book series written by one Carver Edlund – aka Chuck Shirley – here? Not to mention that the Trickster had already shown up twice before the fourth season… so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to indicate that it had been mentioned in the books.

With that in mind, Jesse took a deep breath and looked up at Gabriel with a confidence that she most definitely did not feel.

"There's this book series called _Supernatural_," she began hesitantly, hoping against everything that this would work. "It's written by some guy named Carver Edlund, and it follows the adventures of these two brothers named Sam and Dean who travel around the back roads of America hunting stuff that's only found in myths and legends." Gabriel's gaze sharpened at this information, and Jesse forced herself to continue even though all she really wanted to do was run away screaming. "In two of those books, called _Tall Tales_ and _Mystery Spot_ respectively, the brothers ran into this demi-god who called himself the Trickster. In a blog on the author's website, he revealed that the Trickster was actually the Norse god Loki."

Gabriel fixed her with an intense look, before he grinned in a somewhat sarcastic manner. "Really now? And what happened to these books?"

"They weren't very popular," Jesse admitted in a small voice, struggling to remember the specifics from _The Monster At The End Of This Book_ as she tried to spin her tale, desperately hoping that she didn't slip up. "I think the publisher went bankrupt or something a few years ago, 'cause there were only three parts to the series. There were about sixty books published though, I think."

"And how do you know about these books?" the archangel asked nonchalantly. Jesse looked at him before she gave a sheepish grin and shrugged

"I'm a big folklore nut," she admitted, and then gave a wry laugh. "Someone that was in one of my English classes a couple years ago recommended the series to me once she heard that I liked reading mythology and stuff, said that the series went pretty heavily into different mythological and folkloric concepts from all over the world. Not too long after that, I found a big box of the books in a used bookstore." At the skeptical expression that she received in response, she flushed with embarrassment. "Hey, don't knock it. It was ten bucks for the entire box, and it had most of the series in it. For someone who reads like a house on fire and was bored out of their mind over the summer, it was a pretty sweet deal."

The truth was she was a big folklore nut – most of the books stacked up on her desk were books on Irish mythology, Russian and German fairy tales, and ghost stories from all over the world, as well as a good portion of Bob Curran's different analysis' on various creatures from folklore and the history behind them – and she did own some of the books out on _Supernatural_. And she definitely read a lot. Heck, half the staff at Half-Price Books knew her by name now, and a lot of the people at Barnes and Noble knew her pretty well too. The number of books published was only a rough estimate though – she assumed that for every episode in seasons 1-3 that a book had been published. And the bit about the blog she had just pulled out of her ass.

Everything that she had told Gabriel was essentially the truth, except for the fact that she was omitting the information that:

a) She was from a different reality

b) She had never read Carver Edlund's version of _Supernatural_ in her life

c) _Supernatural_ was a TV show created by Eric Kripke where she was from

So, in other words, she was bullshitting. Big time.

"When you saw me in the front, you recognized me." The smug undertone in Gabriel's voice set Jesse's teeth on edge, and she fixed him with a truly withering glare in response.

"Your picture was on the back cover of _Mystery Spot_," she stated flatly, a single eyebrow arching upwards even as she managed to convey the obvious, unsaid 'duh' that hung in the air. Okay, that one was a total crock of shit too, but it was the only excuse that she could possibly think of, and at least it was plausible. "It was kind of sketchy, but it was still close enough."

The archangel looked thoughtful as he nodded, and he released the front of Jesse's shirt in almost careless gesture. She stumbled backwards a few steps, her heavy backpack throwing her off-balance for a little bit. Gabriel didn't even pay any attention to that before he gave her a sidelong glance and smirked. Jesse grimaced in response; there was that feeling of impending doom again.

"So is that what you think, that you're somehow in this book series?" he asked with feigned nonchalance. Jesse gave him a look that almost screamed 'are you _high_?', but she managed to refrain from saying so, just barely.

"I'm still rooting for the dream theory," she said dryly as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "Unless the stuff in the books is somehow _real_, which I seriously doubt, that's my best option. Like I said, I really don't wanna be crazy."

That seemed to make him think for a moment, and he stared at her intently for a second before his usual grin crept across his face.

"Have fun," he said suddenly, and Jesse gaped at him before she gestured to the hallway around her.

"With _what_?" she demanded sharply, and he wiggled his eyebrows impishly before he blinked out of existence in a fizz of black and white static.

Jesse was left standing in the abandoned hallway, her mouth moving soundlessly as words failed her. It took her a few seconds to work out what had just happened. Gabriel – instead of punting her out of his little TV Land illusion like she had hoped in the back corner of her mind – had left her there to be screwed with. The woman stood there, her breathing hitching in her throat as the sheer amount of ridiculousness of the situation crashed down on her. Her last-ditch plan hadn't worked.

And then she just snapped.

"Why you… son of a fucking _bitch_!" she roared, her self-control becoming nothing more than a faint memory as pure outrage and frustration flooded through her. "You better not come near me again, you arrogant dick, otherwise I swear to God I'll ram my foot so far up your feathered ass that you'll be tasting rubber for a millennia!"

When she didn't immediately get struck by lightning, or zapped off to nowhere land the way he had to Cas when he showed up – or was that when he showed up now? – Jesse relaxed slightly. She wasn't going to die a horrible and agonizing death, so everything was good or at least as good as being trapped in a TV show could be.

"I _hate_ my life," she finally growled as she reached up and slowly dragged her right hand down her face. She let out a long sigh before she came to the decision that her best bet was to avoid attracting any more attention from Gabriel, which meant that she wasn't allowed to lose her temper anymore. After all, she knew better than anyone that she had a very nasty tendency to let things slip that she shouldn't have when she was pissed off.

It was right about then that she heard the gunshot.

Jesse froze, her gaze darting around her nervously, before she remembered what must have happened. Oh yeah, crazy guy wanting a face transplant for his wife. Crazy guy who had a freaking _gun_ and didn't like it when Dean told him that his wife didn't need jack shit, because this whole FUBAR wasn't real.

"_Shit_!" she yelped, and took off down the hallway in the direction that the gunshot had just come from.

She skidded around the corner just in time to see Dean crumple fully to the ground before Sam started to bellow for a doctor. For one second, Jesse debated about even getting involved, before she just shook her head and shoved any of her numerous doubts into a corner. Someone needed help, and she'd be damned if she just stood by with her thumb stuffed up her ass.

"Screw it," she muttered viciously before she came up behind Sam and dropped down on her knees next to him. "What do you need me to do?"

The taller man looked at her with a wild-eyed stare, clearly caught off-guard, and Jesse glared at him before she indicated pointedly to the bleeding gunshot wound in the middle of his brother's back. She could tell that he was scared, didn't really know what to do, but now wasn't the time for this.

"Hello, he's bleeding!" she snapped irritably. "Use his coat to stop the blood or something, not just sit there like an idiot!"

There'd be time to panic later. She could freak out once someone that she felt like she knew – she didn't know them, never could – wasn't in danger of bleeding out in a damned archangel's fucked-up idea of a funhouse. And maybe once she stopped shaking she could re-evaluate her highly suicidal desire to always try to help people.

As Sam tried to stop the bleeding, Jesse looked up and glared at the various nurses and other random bystanders that were milling around them like so many sheep. Even though she knew that they weren't real, that they were nothing more than the Trickster's little fakes, she still wanted to strangle them as they all stood by idly and just _watched_. If the people in the hospital had done this when her uncle had been dying on the operating table, she would have gone on a freaking killing spree.

Hell, if it had been Andy instead of Dean lying there on the floor, someone would already be dead.

"What the hell are you looking at?" she snarled as she stood up and marched over towards one likely-looking orderly before she seized him by the front of his light-green scrubs and jerked his face down to her level. "Do your damn job and get a stretcher! This man needs to be in surgery, now!"

When he just stared at her in confusion, Jesse bared her teeth as she straightened up to her full height before she bellowed the order right in his face. "Stat!"

The poor orderly almost pissed himself in fear before he rushed off to do as he was told like a good little drone, and Jesse went back over to Sam's side. She knew that she shouldn't have acted like that, but she couldn't help it. All she could see was Andy lying there in a pool of his own blood, bleeding out while people just stood by and watched. It was a scene straight out of her worst nightmare, one that had started to occur with alarming frequency after he had joined ROTC.

So she wasn't going to force someone else to go through that with their own brother, not when she could do something.

The first thing she noticed was that the once white coat was now smeared liberally with blood as Sam pressed it up against his brother's back. The younger Winchester glanced over at her for a moment before he gave her an odd look.

"Are you a medical major or something?" he asked quietly, and Jesse flashed him a somewhat humorless smirk in response.

"No, I just watch a lot of _House_," she joked lamely, and winced at the incredulous look that she received for her troubles. "Sorry, wrong thing to say. Bad joke, really bad joke. I tend to stick my foot in my mouth when I'm freaked out. Actually, I used to be a Veterinary major before I switched to Art." She gave a wry laugh as she shook her head. "Apparently I have a problem with killing things."

Sam favored her with a flat stare, and Jesse shrugged helplessly at the questioning look on his face. She needed to keep him talking, help keep his mind off of the fact that his brother might die from blood loss before the damned orderly got back with the stretcher.

"I worked for a vet's office the summer after my first year," she explained hesitantly. "I loved it there; wasn't bothered by the blood and guts, which was a rarity for most people, and I was good with the animals. Always have been. They just seem to like me for some reason. And the people at the office really liked me too; said I was a good worker and that I'd be a wonderful vet once I was trained up a bit." Jesse smiled sadly as she said this before she shrugged, the emotion disappearing from her face as she folded up a piece of unstained lab coat and passed it over to Sam, who applied it to the now-soaked portion of the coat that he was holding. "Everything was going great, at least until one day close to the end of the summer when they asked me to put this dog to sleep. He was a big old Retriever mix of some kind, totally blind with hip dysplasia and some serious lung problems. His owners had finally decided that it was better to put him to sleep, end his pain and all that, instead of keeping him alive and hurting."

The woman fell silent as she looked up, her eyebrows furrowing together in a decidedly annoyed expression as she realized that the orderly wasn't back with the stretcher yet.

"If he's not back here in two seconds, I'm gonna keelhaul someone," she snarled warningly to the general vicinity, her threat hanging in the air pointedly. Sam looked over at her, a startled expression on his face as he bestowed upon her the same look that one would give a cute little bunny rabbit suddenly gone rabid.

"What happened?" he finally asked, clearly preferring the topic of her former major to the muttering of creative death threats. Jesse shrugged noncommittally, although she smiled bitterly at the memory of what had happened next.

"I freaked," she said tonelessly. "I just started crying as I stared at this poor dog, and I was shaking so badly that I couldn't even hold the syringe. One of vet techs had to take over for me once they realized that I wasn't going to do it, and I ended up hiding in the bathroom until it was over."

The orderly chose that exact moment to show up with the stretcher, and Jesse gave a soft sigh of relief as she got up and allowed the hospital staff to do their job. Dean was lifted up onto the stretcher and rushed off to the closest surgery area, and she was left standing there, staring at her blood-streaked hands. For a moment she had the strange urge to laugh as she looked at the sticky red fluid coating her fingers and palms. How long had it been since she'd had blood on her hands? How long had it been since she had helped save something?

Before Jesse had a chance to further brood over her unexpected trip back to something that she'd never expected to do again, a similarly bloody hand seized her by the wrist and started to drag her along after the stretcher.

"You're coming with me," Sam said firmly as he booked it after the stretcher that had carried off his brother, forcing Jesse into a run just so she could keep up with him. "I am _not_ staying alone in an entire operating room full of these freaks."

The woman just gaped at him in response, her eyes almost bugging out of their sockets in the process.

"What, _what_?" she yelped as she almost tripped over her own feet, nearly doing a face-plant right on the pristine tile before Sam caught her and dragged her back into an upright position. Okay, she had definitely not expected this.

Before she could really issue any protests, she was unceremoniously stuffed into an operating prep room – where the doctors washed their hands, put on uncontaminated scrubs and all that jazz – and left standing there as Sam started to get ready. Jesse stared at him, desperately wanting to protest, before she let out a defeated sigh and seized a set of dark blue scrubs that looked like they wouldn't drape over her too badly. She removed her backpack and placed it on the floor in an out of the way corner before she began to quickly unbutton her roll-tab overshirt, shrugging it off before she rolled it up and stuffed it in a random side pocket, followed shortly by her watch and the thin braided leather bracelet that dangled loosely from her right wrist.

A quick inspection of the scrub pants showed that they would fall off as soon as she put them on, so Jesse just tossed them back in the direction that she had found them. There was no way in hell that she was stripping down to her underwear in front of a guy anyways, so her jeans would just have to do. There was nothing she could do about her shoes, so if anyone had a problem with her Chucks, tough shit. Jesse quickly shrugged on the shirt – which fell well past her thighs – and gave Sam a shrug as he stared at her. She pulled a hair tie out from the depths of one of her pockets and used that to tie her hair up in a ponytail, trying to repress the derisive snort that threatened to emerge at what she was going.

To be bluntly honest, she looked like a little kid trying to play doctor. At least when she had been working at the vet's office, she'd had a set of scrubs that actually fit her. Also, what she was doing right now was going against everything that she'd ever been taught back then. Her shoes and pants weren't sterile, and she wasn't actually a member of the medical team. According to the rules and protocol for surgery, any surgery, she wasn't supposed to be there at all.

Then again, this was a TV show. Weird, inaccurate crap like this happened all the time in them.

"Heads up," someone called out, and Jesse looked up in time to catch a hair net of the surgeon variety. She gave the object a flat stare before she sighed and set about putting the stupid thing on, tucking her almost waist-length hair up into it, as well as her bangs. Once she had it on, she knew that she looked like an idiot, but it wasn't important. The next step was to scrub her hands, to damn near scour the epidermis from the rest of her skin as she lathered all the way up past her elbows with the harsh-smelling soap reserved specifically for surgery.

Her next step was to pull on the surgical gloves, followed by some kind of huge white backwards overcoat that buttoned up at the back. Sam, bless him, came up behind her and fastened the ties when he saw her floundering with them. The bloody thing was so long on her that she almost tripped and fell flat on her face when she shuffled out into the surgery room after the 'cast' surgeons and Sam. She didn't even want to mention the stupid face mask, because it was all she could do not to just rip the blasted thing off and be done with it. It itched like no other, and she had to fight the urge to sneeze every time the pale green papery material brushed up against her nose, which was whenever she drew in a breath.

Soon, she was busy holding gauze pads to the still-bleeding wound on Dean's back with a pair of forceps, keeping occupied while Sam tried to figure out what in the hey he needed to do. It was right about then that the man let out a low groan, indicating that he had regained consciousness. That was also when one of the surgeons – a particularly vapid-looking blonde – piped up in a suitably ominous tone.

"B.P.s 80 over 50 and dropping."

Jesse gritted her teeth, and silently wished that she could somehow shoot out the stupid speakers that were playing some kind of sad, cheesy music. She knew that it was just part of the 'atmosphere' of Gabriel's version of _Dr. _Sexy, but it was really starting to get on her nerves. One of the other surgeons chose that moment to try and pass Sam a scalpel. The lanky man just stared at it like she was offering him a severed head or something equally dubious.

"Doctor," the woman prodded, and held out the scalpel meaningfully.

"What?"

Jesse glanced over at Sam and gave him a suitably exasperated look as he shook his head. That was when Dean spoke up.

"Sam, c'mon, do something," he insisted. The younger man slowly leaned forward and gave the back of his brother's head a somewhat frustrated glare.

"I don't know how to use _any_ of this crap," he hissed.

"Figure it out!" There was a moment of awkward silence before Dean spoke, and when he did there was a definite note of bewilderment in his voice. "Why is one of the surgeons wearing blue jeans and Converse?"

Jesse couldn't help but chuckle even as she leaned back slightly and looked down at her feet. Yep, the hem of her jeans stuck out from under the coat, and there was no way that anyone could ignore her shoes. The statement was just too funny though, especially considering who it came from. "Uh, yeah, that would be me."

"The space-case?"

The woman rolled her eyes even as Sam shot his brother a reproving look.

"You know, your face is on the perfect level for me to just accidentally hit with my knee," she observed dryly before she shook her head. "The sad thing is, I'm the one who actually has some medical training here. And by the way, just in case you forgot, my name's Jesse."

Dean made an aggravated noise in response even as his body tensed up slightly. He was definitely scared about the whole thing, and to be honest she really didn't blame him. "Sam, come on, I'm waiting!"

"Okay, I need a… penknife, some dental floss, a sewing needle, and a… fifth of whisky," Sam said hesitantly. Everyone in the operating room, with the exception of Jesse and Dean, all stared at him like he had just sprouted another head.

The woman leaned forward slightly and gave him a pointed glance.

"Say 'stat'," she hissed before she jerked her head in the direction of the 'sheep'. Sam favored her with a wide-eyed look before he turned his gaze to the rest of the medical staff around them.

"Stat!" he snapped, and all the little drones rushed off to retrieve the items like good little lackeys. Jesse gave the man a knowing look even as she pulled down her face mask and grinned.

"Stat is the magic word in medical shows, even if it is overused," she said as she smirked slightly. "Use your power well, young Skywalker."

The older man gave her an 'okay, you're crazy' look, and Dean snorted loudly from his spot on the operating table. Fortunately for all of them, the drones returned with the requested supplies right about then, and Sam set about using them in the manner that he was accustomed to. Jesse watched him do his task with a kind of intense determination that could only be found in the Winchesters. She knew probably better than anyone in the room that it was never a good idea to try and get between the two.

All attempts would only end in tears.

Once she was reasonably certain that she wasn't needed – Sam was doing just fine with his improvised tools – Jesse scampered off into the changing room and started to strip off all of retarded medical gear that she had been forced into. She really did not want or need Gabriel zapping her off to the next destination without her backpack; if she lost that, she would be _pissed_. The scrub shirt and wonky lab coat were forcibly thrown into the closest available locker, and Jesse spared the face mask and hair net an irritated scowl as she wrenched them off and promptly deposited them in a nearby trash can.

If there was one thing that she didn't miss from her internship at the vet's office, it was all of the crap that was required for someone to wear to even be allowed into surgery. Jesse gave a dry snort as she found her backpack and pulled her overshirt – now wrinkled – out of the side pocket that she had stuffed it into earlier. She shrugged it on easily; leaving the front unbuttoned for the time being, and put on her watch and bracelet before she shouldered her backpack once again.

When Jesse walked out into the little observation area, she arrived just in time to see Dr. Piccolo press her hand against the glass as she said "I love you", tears dripping down her face in a highly dramatic manner. The younger woman just stared at the surgeon for a several moments with an odd look on her face, completely unaware of the fact that she was also within Sam's line of sight.

"Lady, you have some _serious_ issues," she finally said as she shook her head, and there was a short bark of laughter from the other side of the glass. Apparently at least _one_ person had found her comment amusing. Jesse cocked an eyebrow as she glanced over at Sam, and grinned slightly when she saw that that man was now busy on the far side of the room – as far away as he could possibly get from the glass, or at least the creepy doctor chick behind the glass, she noted wryly – tapping the still-bloody forceps against the palm of his gloved hand in an unnerved manner.

Jesse rolled her eyes as she shook her head, ignoring the massive stink-eye that she was receiving from Dr. Piccolo as she headed for the door that lead out to the hallway. Okay, she had done her good deed for today. Now she needed to focus on getting the heck out of here. And she did not want to be near the Winchesters for any extended period of time.

If some sick and twisted being was just going to drop-kick her into a TV show for shits and giggles, then she was going to fight tooth and nail against whatever was going on. The woman narrowed her eyes slightly at the thought before she shook her head and sighed. There was no way that she was going to allow herself to just fall into a rut, to follow the Winchesters around like some lost puppy. She was a big girl, and she could stand on her own; if anyone tried to force her to do otherwise, then she'd fight them kicking and screaming.

She was not one of those whiny, pathetic little girls from the fanfictions. She was a grown woman, and she could fix this herself.

"Downward spiral," she muttered dryly as she stepped out into the hallway, and froze. An odd chanting sound met her ears, and Jesse frowned as she cocked her head slightly, trying to figure out what the noise was.

And then it hit her, and Jesse choked loudly as she stood there with wide eyes, dreading what she knew was about to come next. It was the Japanese game show, Nutcracker. Where Sam got hit in the balls by a giant mallet because he didn't know the answer to a question given to him in Japanese, and Dean actually answered an equally retarded question given to him _in_ Japanese. The woman groaned loudly as she fought the very strong urge to just start beating her head against the closest wall, and not stop.

This was gonna _suck_.

* * *

Well, here's the second chapter for _Problem Girl_. Stuff's starting to heat up… well, I hope it will. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and put this story on Alert, Favorite, or whatever you did. I appreciate it, and I'm glad that you're enjoying my efforts so far.

I'm really trying to make Jesse a normal girl, one who is more worried about graduating from college and successfully making her way in the world than the drama. Sure, everyone wonders what it would be like to live a day in the life of one of their favorite TV shows – usually in the form of acting in one of them though – but she's never actually expected anything like that to ever happen.

Thank you to anonymous, FieryPiratess, Library Bum, anon, and cm 1197 for your reviews.


	3. Chapter 3: Painful

_So one day he found her crying  
Coiled up on the dirty ground  
Her prince finally came to save her  
And the rest you can figure out  
But it was a trick  
And the clock struck 12  
Well make sure to build your house brick by boring brick  
or the wolves gonna blow it down_

Keep your feet on the ground  
When your head's in the clouds

Well go get your shovel  
And we'll dig a deep hole  
To bury the castle, bury the castle

_To bury the castle, bury the castle_

-"Brick By Boring Brick" by **Paramore**

"Nothing is as simple as we hope it will be." – Jim Horning

**Chapter Three: Painful**

**Then:**

_Jesse rolled her eyes as she shook her head, ignoring the massive stink-eye that she was receiving from Dr. Piccolo as she headed for the door that lead out to the hallway. Okay, she had done her good deed for today. Now she needed to focus on getting the heck out of here. And she did not want to be near the Winchesters for any extended period of time._

_If some sick and twisted being was just going to drop-kick her into a TV show for shits and giggles, then she was going to fight tooth and nail against whatever was going on. The woman narrowed her eyes slightly at the thought before she shook her head and sighed. There was no way that she was going to allow herself to just fall into a rut, to follow the Winchesters around like some lost puppy. She was a big girl, and she could stand on her own; if anyone tried to force her to do otherwise, then she'd fight them kicking and screaming. _

_She was not one of those whiny, pathetic little girls from the fanfictions. She was a grown woman, and she could fix this herself._

"_Downward spiral," she muttered dryly as she stepped out into the hallway, and froze. An odd chanting sound met her ears, and Jesse frowned as she cocked her head slightly, trying to figure out what the noise was._

_And then it hit her, and Jesse choked loudly as she stood there with wide eyes, dreading what she knew was about to come next. It was the Japanese game show, Nutcracker. Where Sam got hit in the balls by a giant mallet because he didn't know the answer to a question given to him in Japanese, and Dean actually answered an equally retarded question given to him _in_ Japanese. The woman groaned loudly as she fought the very strong urge to just start beating her head against the closest wall, and not stop._

_This was gonna _suck_._

**Now:**

The chanting got louder even as Jesse stood there, a pained expression on her face as she looked around for an exit of some kind. She really did _not_ want to be a part of the Nutcracker game show. As a girl, she didn't exactly have the plumbing to make the action truly agonizing the way that it would be for a man, but she definitely didn't want to get hit in that area with a freaking hammer. It would still hurt like hell.

Before the woman could really do anything, or even try to figure out a way to bolt from the area, a blazing white light erupted in front of her eyes. Jesse recoiled automatically as she slammed her eyes shut in a valiant effort to shield her retinas from the onslaught, stumbling backwards a few steps. For one second, she heard a roar of applause and some kind of cheesy game-show music before everything became sort of… well, almost muted. Jesse shook her head as she straightened up, throwing off the disorientation before she opened her eyes.

The second she did, she really _really_ wished that she hadn't.

Why the chanting and cheering had become muted was now abruptly clear, and Jesse swallowed nervously as she took a step backwards, and then cursed colorfully when her back – her _bare_ back, no backpack – smacked into an unyielding wall behind her. She was trapped in a box. A clear, Plexiglas box that was maybe four feet square at the base, and about seven feet tall.

For one moment, the woman felt distinctly nauseous as she stared blankly at the dark expanse that lay beyond the stage in front of her, her breath starting to come in short, panicked bursts even as she tried not to freak out. It was okay, it was just like the elevator at school, no big deal…

Except for the _huge_ fact that the elevators at ASU were at least three times the size of the box, and weren't see-through.

She was in a freaking clear coffin. Once that thought came up, it was all Jesse could do not to start screaming herself hoarse and pounding on the walls. This was just like her worst nightmare. The only thing that was missing was that she wasn't buried six feet underground. She wasn't claustrophobic, not at all. She just really, _really_ hated being stuck in small spaces.

That didn't mean that she was claustrophobic. Honestly, she was perfectly calm, the fact that her fingernails were slowly and steadily digging deeper and deeper into the unprotected palms of her hands notwithstanding. It was just a coincidence, that was all.

And if you believed that, there was some beachfront property on the moon that Jesse could sell you, cheap.

"Let me out, please," the woman whispered shakily as she clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth, doing her level best to retain any and all shreds of self-control that she still possessed. Even so, she knew that her hands were probably trembling visibly.

A loud cheer and a wave of applause erupted from the audience, and the set of blue doors off to her left swung open with a cloud of some special-effects fog from a machine of some kind. The game show host dashed out past her, ignoring Jesse's predicament completely as he took his place in between the Winchesters and gestured grandly.

"Let's play NUTCRACKER!" he cheered loudly as he pumped his right arm furiously several times. The invisible audience burst into a deafening round of applause, and Jesse could see in her mind's eye the large red kanji script that splayed across the screen. She winced visibly, and opened her eyes as she decided to try something before things got too badly out of hand. There was only so long that she could delay her eventual freaking out.

"Let me out!" she shouted as she slammed the palm of her hand against the Plexiglas several times, creating a loud boom each time that she knew was impossible for the insanely cheery man to ignore. The host turned around to face her, followed shortly by Sam and Dean, and twin expressions of shock flashed across both men's faces when they saw her. Apparently they weren't expecting for her to be there.

When Jesse saw the blank look on the host's face, she frowned as she tried to remember something in Japanese… something useful. And no, being able to swear at someone until she was blue in the face did not count as 'useful', no matter _what_ Andy thought.

"Tasukete!" she insisted as she slammed her fist against the barrier trapping her almost frantically. If she remembered correctly, that meant 'help me'. Ah, the wonders of being bored between classes and watching subtitled anime on YouTube.

The game show host looked at her almost curiously – his expression momentarily becoming condescending – before he grinned eerily, and Jesse's breath caught in her throat as he just turned around and rattled something off in Japanese. He wasn't going to help her. Hell, he wasn't going to let her out of this damned see-through coffin, she was gonna suffocate right there in front of everyone else and-

Jesse let out a low snarl of frustration as she gritted her teeth and immediately smacked her forehead against the Plexiglas in a single, violent move, effectively cutting off the beginnings of the panic attack that she'd been about to have. The pain forced her to get a grip, and she sent a truly murderous glare towards the game show host as he turned around to stare at her.

"Let me the _hell_ out of here, right now," she snarled threateningly as she planted both of her hands against the Plexiglas and leaned against it, hazel eyes narrowed dangerously. "I _know_ that you understand English, you little shit!"

Normally, she would have been just a bit more reasonable, but she had only a slight problem with the fact that she was trapped in a freaking Plexiglas box with no way out. For all she knew, she had a limited supply of air before she started to suffocate-

Jesse clenched her eyes shut and leaned back away from the Plexiglas, her breath coming in short, sudden gasps through tightly gritted teeth as she tried not to hyperventilate. Even as she fought to keep calm, she heard the host rattle off a question in Japanese to Sam.

"Sam Winchester… What was the name of the demon who you betrayed your brother with?"

Even if she didn't exactly understand what he was saying – her knowledge of Japanese was pretty piecemeal, even if she had her Japanese/English dictionary on her – she knew what he was _supposed_ to say, if that made any sense. But to be honest, the only words that she could actually pick out of the sentence that she understood – well, actually, it was only one – was _akuma_. Demon.

"What? Um, what am I supposed to say?"

"You think I know?"

As she listened to Sam's efforts to relay to the game show host that he did not in fact understand Japanese, Jesse slowly leaned back against the false glass wall behind her and sighed, keeping her eyes firmly shut. It was a small mercy that no one else was in there with her; otherwise her claustrophobia would have been that much worse. Already she was feeling the strong urge – one that was almost like a nervous twitch, only worse – to start pounding on the walls and shouting until she was let out. Unfortunately she already knew that Gabriel wouldn't let her out of the box until the game show round was over, well, unless she somehow managed to piss him off.

The woman let out a short, abrupt bark of slightly hysterical laughter as a thought came to her, and she grinned wryly as she shook her head.

Who was she trying to kid? She had probably already gotten on the archangel's bad side with her explanation of the books – granted, it was complete and total BS – and she was damned lucky that all Gabriel had done was stuff her in a Plexiglas container on stage. At least he hadn't made her wear one of the creepy, weirdo porno devil costumes that the two women on stage with the host were in. She would have died from embarrassment right then and there if that had been the case. Or she could have been up there with the boys, getting hit between the legs with a mallet.

"I'm sorry, Sam Winchester."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

Right then, almost as though it had been choreographed by some very sadistic cosmic force of the universe, she heard Sam's loud grunt of pain, followed shortly by the host's accented, obscenely exuberant cry of "Nutcracker!". Jesse winced sympathetically in response, but still didn't open her eyes. As long as she kept her eyes shut and didn't try to stretch out too much, she could ignore the fact that she was trapped.

"Sam, you okay?"

Jesse cracked open one eye in time to see the look that the younger Winchester shot Dean, and grinned wryly. Yeah, that probably would have been her response too. Right about then, a loud knocking noise sounded on the metal doors next to her, and then swung open in a cloud of fog to reveal Castiel. The woman stared at the trench-coat wearing angel for a few seconds before she allowed herself the momentary indignity of grinning like an idiot.

Cas had been one of her favorite characters since he showed up in the fourth season. There was just something about him that made her laugh; probably his obvious innocence when it came to human matters. Carol had given her so much shit when she had seen the wallpaper on her laptop depicting the angel – when she got said laptop back, there was a whole shitload of image files that she was gonna seal off in a password-protected file, two of 'em if she could swing it – saying that she had a 'crush' on Misha Collins. Not the case. Definitely not the case. She just thought that his character was funny, that was all.

Yes, that's right Mr. Collins, please ignore the silently geeking out woman to your right. Thank you, that is all.

Fortunately for Jesse, none of the men seemed to notice her sudden and intense fascination with the toes of her shoes. No, she was not going to look up, because if she did she knew that she'd start laughing and never stop.

"Cas?" There was a faint note of hope in Dean's voice as he gaped at the angel.

"Is this another trick?"

Castiel's eyebrows knitted together as he stared intently at the two men. "It's me. Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Us? What are you doing here?" Dean demanded. If the situation hadn't been so serious – and so incredibly messed up – Jesse probably would have laughed. It was like watching the episode on a big-screen, or maybe even one of those 3D shticks. It was one of those things where this actually would have been fun if there wasn't the whole 'how the _hell_ do I get out' element to deal with.

"Looking for you," was the angel's rather terse reply. "You've been missing for days."

Jesse straightened up and gave Cas a long look before she shook her head and sighed. She reached out and sharply rapped her knuckles against the Plexiglas, prompting the angel to turn around and looked at her curiously. She gave him a strained grin and wiggled her fingers in a slightly sheepish non-verbal 'hello' before she jerked her thumb out towards the general direction of the 'audience'.

"Ah, you might want to run," she suggested pointedly, wincing as she accidentally smacked her elbow into the side of her 'container'. "Probably now. This guy really does _not_ play nice."

Blue eyes narrowed in obvious confusion before Castiel frowned and looked back over at Dean, who shrugged in response.

"Don't look at me; we don't know who she is either."

Somehow, Jesse managed to resist the urge to roll her eyes and make an appropriately sarcastic comment. It wasn't worth the aggravation and consequences that would definitely follow once everything settled down. Of course, there were only consequences if this wasn't some big, seriously messed-up dream.

Castiel sighed before he stepped forward and reached out to press his fingertips against the men's foreheads. "Let's go."

And then, in a burst of static, he flickered out of existence before he could even touch one of the Winchesters. Jesse groaned loudly before she softly banged her forehead against the thick plastic barrier in front of her, repeating the motion several times.

"I knew it," she muttered in between thuds. "Knew it. Knew it. Frickin' knew it."

Once she had finished with the self-abuse, Jesse groaned as she leaned against the front of the Plexiglas box and slowly dragged her left hand down her face. Even though she technically knew what was supposed to happen here, she had kind of hoped that Cas would have been able to get Sam and Dean out before Gabriel had zapped him away. Sure, she would have been about thirty different kinds of screwed once they had escaped, but at least Gabriel wouldn't be screwing with them anymore. Besides, who knew how much her being here affected how things turned out?

What was the Doctor's take on paradoxes again? Oh yeah "Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey" or something like that. Not that it was exactly useful here.

"No no no," the Japanese host suddenly interrupted as he stalked over towards them, effectively jerking Jesse from her thoughtful state as she looked over at him. "Mister Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels."

She couldn't help herself, honestly, she couldn't. She was tired, cranky, and she really, _really_ wanted to wake up now. And for some stupid reason that she would probably later curse herself into the depths of hell for, Jesse's brain-to-mouth filter decided to stop working.

"Bullshit," she snorted as she gave the host a scathing glare. "You and your… glamour-buddy are so full of shit it's squirting out your ears." The woman crossed her arms over her chest before she gave the Japanese man a cynical smile, and then directed her gaze upwards as her expression became downright murderous. "Only a coward and a hypocrite would stuff someone into their own personal TiVo."

Dean and Sam were both gaping at her in a kind of stunned horror, but Jesse didn't care. She wanted _out _of this stupid box, and if she had to insult an archangel to do it, then so be it. No more just sitting back and letting things slide; she was in control of her fate, and there was no way in hell that she was just going to be some stuck-up angel knee-deep in De Nile's plaything without a fight.

Hopefully, he didn't just decide to smite her on the spot.

Jesse glared daggers up in the direction of the ceiling – hopefully she managed to get her point across soon – before she gave a cold, wolfish smile and tilted her head to the side slightly.

"But that's exactly what you are Loki, isn't it?" she continued, squashing down the deep-seated feeling of sheer and utter terror that wailed through her and silently praying that there wasn't a hysterical tremor in her voice. If she blew this, she was worse than screwed. "You're nothing more than a spineless, pathetic coward who can't even face the consequences of-"

There was no jerk, no feeling of dizziness or nausea, nothing. One second she was stuck in a Plexiglas container on the stage of a lame-ass Japanese game show, the next she was standing in a very nondescript room, almost eye-to-eye with one very cheesed off faux demigod. Jesse twitched, and gave a nervous chuckle.

It was amazing how something could make sense when she was thinking about it, and then go completely FUBAR when it actually played out.

Andy was right. She was an idiot sometimes. What in the hell had possessed her to think that this was a good idea, at all? Well, when in doubt, act innocent, she decided with a mental shrug.

The woman gave Gabriel a strained, sheepish grin before she laced her fingers together behind her back and rocked backwards slightly on her heels.

"Hi, how's it going?" she asked in a forcibly cheerful manner.

There was no way in hell that Gabriel bought her nonchalant act – her legs were shaking way too badly for anyone to _not_ notice. The archangel gave her a scrutinizing look in response, a single sandy-colored eyebrow rising upwards even as his lips slowly spread out into a dangerous smirk.

"Care to explain what that was all about?" he asked in a falsely calm manner. Jesse swallowed nervously as her mouth went dry, and managed to give a forced smile even as her stomach started to threaten her with mutiny. Yeah, she was toast. It was hard to feel brave or sure of yourself when you felt like you were about to throw up.

"Umm… can I go home now, please?"

Okay, yeah, that was not what she had wanted to come out of her mouth – she sounded like some lost little kid – and mentally cringed. Definitely not the impression that she wanted to give, especially since she hated being mistaken for a kid. But, on the plus side, it did do the whole 'underestimate your opponent' bit. Although the odds of Gabriel actually falling for that – she only used the 'scared freshman' act for the _really_ crabby professors, and even then sometimes it failed her – were pretty much zilch.

However, the slightly stunned expression that flickered across the archangel's face at her words proved otherwise before he let out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head.

"You did _that_… just so you could ask to go home?" he finally said, his eyes glinting with barely restrained humor. Jesse merely shrugged sheepishly before she slowly nodded her head in response, not trusting herself to say anything that wouldn't land her in deeper trouble than she was in already. She knew that she was playing with fire here, but at least she wasn't in that stupid box anymore. She probably would have lost it big time if she had been stuck in that stupid thing any longer.

The woman gave Gabriel a weak grin before she stuffed her hands into her pockets and glanced off to the side. He watched her for a few seconds, clearly enjoying the fact that she was fidgeting nervously, waiting for whatever he was about to do next. The archangel smirked faintly as he watched Jesse silently for a little bit longer, just to make her squirm with anxiety before he delivered his verdict. Humans were way too easy to toy with.

"So… will you?" Jesse asked quietly, and received a considering look in response. Gabriel looked falsely thoughtful for a few seconds, humming almost tunelessly as he nodded his head slightly, before he straightened up and smirked.

"Nope!" he said brightly as he flicked the fingers on his right hand at her, and suddenly she was somewhere completely different – and in different clothing than she had been wearing before.

Jesse had time to take in the bright red and white plaid button-up that she was wearing – obviously made for a woman judging by the fit and with the sleeves carefully rolled up to her elbows – and the white t-shirt underneath, before an unseen presence suddenly stuffed a stack of thick books into her arms and shoved her roughly towards an unobtrusive-looking white door that was on a very fake-looking façade of a front porch. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at it, and then down at the stack of books in her arms, before she rolled her eyes.

"Jackass," she growled softly under her breath before she edged over towards the door, shifting the heavy books over into the corner of her right arm as she did so and effectively freeing up her left hand so she could use it to quickly grasp the doorknob and twist it open. Once the door creaked open just a bit, Jesse stuck her left foot around the corner and hooked her ankle on the edge before she jerked it back in a familiar motion, noticing the state of her footwear and pants for the first time. Okay, her jeans and shoes were still the same – good. It was a move that had been long perfected over the years during her multiple trips to the library, and also when she had become an art student and had to ferry all of her supplies back between the pickup truck that she drove and her bedroom. Given that she was used to juggling several bulky, unwieldy items that just loved to slip from her grip at inopportune moments while trying to open her front door, this was a piece of cake.

When she stepped into the room, she was unsurprised to find that she was on the set of the sitcom version to the Winchester's motel room, not that she would ever tell either of them that. The last of Dean's statement met her ears just as she stepped inside and the door swung shut behind her.

"-all kinds of research, all night," the eldest Winchester said in a falsely cheerful tone before they both turned around to face her, almost identical expressions of bewilderment on their faces when they caught sight of her. Jesse moved her shoulders in an awkward sort of shrug before she gave the brothers a faintly embarrassed smile.

For one second she really had no idea what to say. The Winchesters had already had more practice with the whole 'play your roles' bit, that much was obvious. But, did she even have a role in this? She was an anomaly here. Hell, she wasn't even supposed to be a part of this entire mess, and yet there she was. Although, maybe, just maybe, she could make her own role in this.

The woman fought back the urge to smirk slightly at the thought. She sucked at improvisation, but she was pretty damn good at pissing people off.

"I raided the library," she said by way of explanation, nervously glancing briefly over in the direction of the black void that was off to her left where the non-existent 'audience' sat and the applause came from, before she walked over to the table and set the stack of books down next to the sandwich. "We needed more 'research'."

At the term research, she made air quotations with her fingers and pulled a face, showing the two men just what exactly she thought about this whole fiasco. Sam looked momentarily taken aback by the pithy tone of her voice before he shook his head slightly and gave her an almost imperceptible nod in response. Jesse relaxed slightly as she took in the older man's posture, and smiled faintly. Good, at least they didn't think she was part of the Trickster's messed-up TV Land prank now.

"Thanks," he said shortly before he returned his attention to Dean and cocked an eyebrow. "Really?"

Dean grinned in response just as the door over on the far end of the set, the one next to the two beds, which, if Jesse remembered correctly, led to the bathroom, opened, and a young, dark-haired woman in a lurid pink and orange bikini, stepped out.

"Oh Dean…" she called enticingly. "We have some more "research" to do."

Jesse had never seen a full-grown man actually have the 'deer-in-the-headlights' expression on their face before, but that was exactly what Dean looked like before he slowly turned around to face the scantily-clad woman lounging enticingly up against the bathroom doorway. Jesse gave a soft snort of wry amusement as she shook her head.

"Alrighty then," she drawled as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave the older man a knowing look. "Well, we all know which brain you use now."

The laugh track, if that's what it was, went off in a peal of chuckling in the direction of the 'audience'.

If looks could kill, the one that Dean shot her in response to her little smart-ass remark could have and would have turned Lucifer himself into a microscopic pile of ash. The woman merely smiled innocently at him in return as she nonchalantly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Andy had given her worse death glares for saying less embarrassing things in front of his friends or girlfriend. Behind her, Jesse heard Sam let out an exasperated sigh before he too crossed his arms over his chest and gave his brother an exasperated look.

"Dean…" he sighed, and the elder man looked over at the end of the stage that they were on before he said what Jesse knew to be as his signature phrase of exasperation.

"Son of a bitch!"

Sam just rolled his eyes in response before he stalked over to where the woman was standing and started to escort her out of their room.

"I am really, really very sorry, but… we've got some work to do," he apologized as he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her towards the door.

"But we did do work!" she protested as she was led past Dean before she glanced longingly over her shoulder at him. "In depth."

Jesse shook her head in disgust at the woman's stereotypical bimbo attitude as she pulled out one of the chairs at the table and flopped down gracelessly in it, eyeing the massive Dagwood-esque sandwich with definite longing even as her stomach rumbled. It seemed like an eternity now since the bratwurst that she had brought from home for lunch. Unfortunately, she didn't dare eat anything here, especially since she didn't know if any of the food was pranked as well. She really did not want to end up in a Mystery Spot-type situation, especially the repeat-dying from increasingly impossible causes.

Pain was not her friend, especially since she was a bit of a wimp when it came to the whole 'pain tolerance' department.

As soon as Sam closed the front door behind Dean's scantily-clad little 'friend', the older man gave a strained smile that looked a lot more like a grimace before he looked out at the 'audience'.

"How long do we have to keep doing this?" he asked. Sam plastered a similarly strained smile on his face as he walked over to his brother.

"I don't know," he finally admitted. "Maybe forever. We might die in here."

The entire audience laughed uproariously at Sam's comment.

"How is that funny?" Dean demanded shortly. "Vultures."

Jesse scowled at the laugh track that pealed overhead before she glared irritably at the dark 'audience' area, her dark eyebrows knitting together as she fought the urge to bare her teeth in what Andy had once called her 'fuck off and die' smile. Instead, she slowly and deliberately lifted her right arm up before she flipped off the entire audience, holding the gesture for several seconds. The stunned and slightly offended twitters that echoed from the area made her smirk grimly in response; flipping everyone off may have not accomplished anything, but it definitely made her feel better, if only slightly.

"So, what happened to you?" Dean asked suddenly, and Jesse jerked in surprise before she looked up at the older man curiously. She had expected him to give her the stink eye or something, not enquire after her health.

"I was told that I needed to play nicely with the other children," she muttered sarcastically as she leaned back in the chair slightly. Sam cocked an eyebrow at her rather pithy remark, but didn't say anything. Dean, on the other hand, had no such reservations.

"How did you know the Trickster's name?" he said abruptly, and Jesse cringed in response. She really did not want to go there, and she didn't think that she would be able to pull off her BS excuse without some serious bodily harm on her part. The Winchesters were already thoroughly creeped out by Becky and her slashy fangirl insanity; the only way that she would ever admit to knowing anything about the 'books' was under pain of death.

Fortunately for her, timing seemed to be on her side, because Castiel chose that exact moment to barge in onto the set.

"You okay?" Dean asked, and the angel pulled a face as he walked towards them. Jesse winced sympathetically when she saw the bloody cut across the bridge of his nose. He really looked like he had been through the mill.

"I don't have much time."

"What happened?" Sam interjected.

"I got out," Castiel said shortly. Jesse could practically hear the irritation in his voice as he stared at the Winchesters.

"From where?" Dean, sometimes, you have no tact.

"Listen to me! Something is not right," the angel insisted. "This thing is much more powerful than it should be."

"What, the Trickster?"

"If it is a Trickster."

Somehow, Jesse managed to refrain from opening her mouth and instantly stuffing her foot right into it by informing the three men that no, it wasn't a Trickster, and yes, they needed to break out the holy oil ASAP. Right now, her best option was to sit tight and keep her mouth shut. She had already managed to piss of an insanely powerful being within the span of a few hours, and she definitely was not on anyone's Facebook friend's list here. Common sense and a very healthy survival instinct dictated that she at least _attempt_ to stay out of trouble for the remainder of this fiasco.

Of course, Gabriel just _had_ to choose that exact moment to send Castiel flying up against the wall by the front door, making Jesse jump involuntarily. That had to hurt. The woman stared at Castiel with wide eyes even as she flinched slightly at the loud 'thud' that his back made when it connected with the wall. It was so different being here and experiencing this personally than it was sitting in her bedroom and watching everything play out on her laptop.

For one thing, Jesse had started to come to the conclusion that Gabriel was a hell of a lot more annoying in real life than he was in the TV show.

"Hello!" the faux Trickster proclaimed cheerfully as he barged in through the door, prompting a frustrated groan from the young woman before she stood up and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. Yeah, Gabriel was definitely starting to get on her nerves. "Thank you! Thank you. Please!"

Jesse was forced to grit her teeth in a valiant attempt at self-control as she was forced to listen to the Archangel's ego-stroking. This guy went around pranking people to death for being douchebags? Talk about being a hypocrite. He was more than a little full of himself too.

Castiel staggered into an upright position from the spot where he had been flung, a strip of silvery duct tape plastered firmly over his mouth even as he turned around to stare at the 'Trickster' with wide eyes, his gaze accusing. The fake demigod looked over at the angel before he gave an almost cheery smile.

"Hi Castiel!" he said before he flicked his fingers at the other man, making him disappear in a burst of black and white static. Jesse couldn't help but swallow nervously in response. She really did not want to think about all the different TV-Land places that Cas could have landed in, and how very, very bad they probably were.

Almost simultaneously, both Winchesters spoke.

"You know him?"

"Where did you just send him?"

Gabriel waved off their questions with a softly derisive noise.

"Relax. He'll live," he said flippantly before he raised his eyebrows and gave the two men a mischievous grin. "Mmmaybe."

Okay, that was it. She had had _enough_ of this jackass's mind games and screwing around with people. You didn't put somebody's life into jeopardy like that, especially your own brother. With a soft growl rumbling low in her throat, Jesse stepped out from behind Sam and tilted her head to the side slightly, unconsciously mimicking Castiel.

"Either you know what'll happen to him, or you don't," she growled as she fixed the archangel with a truly withering glare. "Which one is it?"

Gabriel actually looked amused by her presence as he smirked knowingly at the young woman.

"I wouldn't go starting any fights there, kiddo," he pointed out smugly. "You're already skating on thin ice as it is."

Jesse returned the smirk, although there was a definite humorless quality to it, one that would have made anyone who knew her well think twice before they said something, because they knew that _they_ were the ones on thin ice. It was the look that she usually had when she was down to her last nerve, and was sick and tired of putting up with everyone else's bullshit. The last time she had looked like that, she'd been PMSing and Andy had kept pestering her until she had eventually taken his head off. At the time she hadn't found it funny, but her dad had thought that it was downright hilarious. Granted, she had only been seventeen at the time and unused to the whole 'hormones influencing your emotions' bit. Now though, at least she knew how to control her anger in a somewhat reasonable manner.

"Really now?" she asked almost scornfully. "And exactly how does that one work?"

Gabriel/Loki gave her a shit-eating grin as he snapped his fingers, and a paperback book appeared in his free hand. Jesse frowned slightly as she stared at it, and was prepared to fire off a smart-ass comment about him reading trashy romance novels in his free time when he held it up and proudly displayed the cover. It took at all of two seconds for the woman to take in the brightly-colored letters making up the title – _Supernatural: Mystery Spot _– before she went dead white in complete and utter horror.

Part of her was damn near screaming in terror, the _ohgodohgodheknowsIlied_ somehow managing to completely override the sane portion of her mind that was telling her to run like hell _now_. All that managed to accomplish was her just standing there, completely frozen, with a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

"You know kid, I gotta say, you definitely have an interesting choice in reading material," the demigod drawled nonchalantly even as he gave her an easy grin. He had her by short hairs, and the son of a bitch knew it. "Although, Sam, Dean, I am really disappointed in you two." Gabriel shook his head almost pityingly as he looked over at the Winchesters, who were now staring at Jesse with the kind of horror they usually reserved for homicidal psychopaths. "I mean, c'mon. Selling your life's story without telling little old me?" The Trickster smirked at both men. "I'm almost tempted to sue for defamation of character."

The woman somehow managed to dredge up her voice from whatever crevice it had gone and hidden itself in, squeezing her eyes shut and sucking in a shaky breath before she opened them and managed to glare at Gabriel.

"Words cannot even _begin_ to describe how much I hate you right now," she finally growled, prompting a truly amused snicker from the demigod.

"And that's my problem, how?" he retorted with a knowing smirk. "Looks to me like you're already on somebody's shit list."

Jesse swallowed nervously before she glanced over at the two older males next to her, and immediately decided that it was probably a good idea to get out of punching range. She'd never seen them hit a girl who wasn't a monster, but hey, it's the Apocalypse. For all she knew, the status quo was all screwed straight to hell. Actually, knowing her luck, it probably was.

"You've read the books?" Dean demanded as he rounded on the younger woman, who made a soft noise in the back of her throat even as she skidded backwards.

"It's a guilty pleasure!" she snapped, and then cringed as Dean's death glare increased. "Hey, it's a story. I read a lot. I liked it. I never thought that it was freaking _real_!"

"And, from what I understand, you two chuckleheads have _quite_ the little following of dedicated fans," Gabriel piped up cheerfully from his spot by the door. Jesse almost lunged at the man as she whipped around to face him, her lips drawn back from her teeth in a silent snarl even as she gave him a murderous glare.

"_You_, shut up!" she spat before her voice dropped down to a lower pitch, although there was no mistaking the deadly tone. "Otherwise, I swear to God I will ram your Lucky Charms so far up your candy-loving ass that you'll wish you never stepped out of that rainbow."

Before the woman could actually do anything to complete her threat, Sam quickly reached out and seized her from behind by her upper arms before he dragged her back away from Gabriel – who looked more than a little pissed off by her 'leprechaun' insinuation. She didn't even bother to protest; Sam had at least a foot and a hundred or so more pounds on her. It would be no problem at all for him to toss her scrawny butt over his shoulder and hold her there until she stopped struggling.

The younger man quickly glanced over at his brother, and received an almost imperceptible nod in response. Jesse could almost smell the testosterone hanging in the air as Dean stalked over towards the Trickster, his entire body tense.

"Alright, you know what?" he growled. "I'm done with the monkey dance. Okay? We _get it_."

"Yeah?" Gabriel sneered, his attention now solely focused on the man in front of him. "Get what, hotshot?"

"Playing our roles, right? That's your game?"

"That's half the game."

Jesse rolled her eyes even as she managed to twist around enough to look at Sam. "But of course there's a catch," she drawled sarcastically to the hunter, keeping her voice low. "There's always a catch."

Sam gave her a look that pointedly suggested that she keep her mouth shut.

"What's the other half?" the man asked, still keeping a firm grip on Jesse so she wouldn't go on a suicide charge at the Trickster. Not that she would. Just because she _wanted_ to punch the smug jackass's face in didn't mean that she couldn't restrain herself.

All three of them could almost see the smug, self-satisfied smirk that crossed the 'man's' face at Sam's question.

"Play your roles _out there_," he said, gesturing with both hands off towards the audience area and wiggling his fingers slightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean grumbled. If Jesse hadn't known that she probably would get into even _deeper_ shit than she was already in, she would have groaned loudly.

"Oh you know," Gabriel said dismissively before he gestured with one hand towards Sam, his voice dropping down into a pitch that sounded like some kind of WWE announcer. "Sam, starring as Lucifer." He gestured with the other hand towards Dean, his eyebrows both rising upwards as he spoke. "Dean starring as Michael." At the brother's slightly confused expressions – Jesse figured that they were probably wondering how in the hell he knew about that – he elaborated. "Your Celebrity Deathmatch! Play. Your. Roles."

"You want us to say _yes_ to those sons of bitches?" Sam demanded incredulously, accidentally letting go of Jesse in the process. The woman didn't skitter away this time though; she stayed where she was, an odd look in her eyes as she stared at Gabriel intently.

For one second she thought that she saw a hint of irritation flicker across the archangel's face, but she wasn't a hundred percent sure. Then again, she wasn't exactly good at reading people's emotions to begin with, so she probably wasn't in a position to be making assumptions.

"Hells yeah!" Gabriel semi-drawled easily. "Let's _light_ this candle!"

Jesse didn't roll her eyes at the man's comment, but it was a very near thing even as she watched Sam and Dean try to very ineffectively plead their case to the older being. For not the first time since she had ended up in what was either her losing her marbles big time or a really whacked-out dream, she wondered if she would just wake up in her art history class once this was over, or would everything just keep on going. The woman shivered at the last thought, and grasped her forearms tightly in a sort of self-hug.

She just wanted to go home. This, all of this… it wasn't fun. Heck, forget fun, it was downright dangerous! Demons, monsters, angels, Lucifer, the Apocalypse… all of it was real here, and the very thought of it scared the holy crap out of her.

"Look, it's started," Gabriel pointed out almost wearily, effectively snapping Jesse out of her thoughts as she looked over at him. "You started it. It can't be stopped. So let's get it _over_ with!"

"Like ripping off a band-aid?" the woman suddenly asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Yeah, she knew what it was like to be stuck in the middle when two family members were fighting. It sucked, big time. But wanting it to just be over and done with didn't fix jack shit; actually, it usually just made things that much worse. And all of the 'poor, pitiful me' whining that the 'Trickster' was assailing her ears with was really, really starting to get on her nerves.

Sometimes, the only way to deal with your family's problem was to haul them out into the open.

"You, shut up," the archangel retorted sharply as he focused his attention on the Winchesters. "You're not involved, so just keep quiet."

Jesse let out a sharp, disbelieving bark of a laugh – according to Andy, that was how you could tell the difference between something that she actually found amusing and when she was upset – before she gave Gabriel a questioning look.

"I'm not involved? I'm _not_ involved?" she finally asked, cocking a disbelieving eyebrow before she shook her head and let out a low snort of derision. "Oh buddy, I became involved in this whole mess the second you kept me around for your sick little daytime TV special instead of punting me back out on my ass."

"Uh-huh," Gabriel said flatly, giving the woman a dangerous smirk. "You make it sound as though you had a choice."

"And you sound like a whiny little brat," Jesse countered sharply. At the warning look that she received in response, she flashed the archangel a humorless grin that was all teeth before she plowed right on without even thinking of stopping. "Sorry, but to quote the philosopher Jagger, you can't always get what you want."

Gabriel flushed angrily at the comment, his odd amber gaze narrowing into a glare that could probably char flash from bones if looks were lethal. Actually, seeing as he was an archangel, Jesse couldn't exactly count that one out as a possibility.

"I don't have to listen to this," he finally said as he straightened up, his face set firmly into an uncaring mask.

A wolfish smirk crossed the woman's face as she lunged in for the kill, choosing her words carefully just so she could make this boneheaded prick actually _think_ about what he was doing.

"What, am I wasting your time or something?" she asked softly, stepping away from the Winchesters as she quirked her head to the side curiously before her tone became harsh and biting. "Am I distracting you from the _valuable_ the hours that you usually spend eating chocolate and masturbating with self-created, illusionary women?"

The words rumbled from her throat in an accusatory snarl, making both Sam and Dean stare at her in what could only be stunned horror. Apparently they couldn't believe that she was actually suicidal enough to say something like that. Then again, angel-baiting generally wasn't the smartest thing to do anyway.

Gabriel, on the other hand, was actually white with rage as he stared at her with something easily akin murder in his eyes. Jesse didn't even flinch as she delivered the final parting shot with as much scorn as she could muster, to the point where she just. Didn't. _Care_.

Besides, there was no way that Gabriel would actually let some scrawny human like her make him lose his cool, right? He was all about the laughs, the women, and the fun, not the wrath and the smiting. She just needed to get on his nerves enough so that this whole hallucination, or whatever the hell it was, collapsed like a house of cards.

"You know," she drawled carelessly, almost as though she didn't care that she was literally poking a tiger in the face with a sharp stick, "it doesn't actually count as getting any when the chick you're screwing is about as real as a blow-up doll."

The last syllable had barely left her lips before a hand was firmly encircled around her neck, and her back was screaming in sheer and utter agony as it and the back of her skull connected with a wall faster than her mind could possibly register. Furious gold-green eyes bored into hers, and for one second Jesse blearily thought that she could see past the deceptively friendly face that Gabriel wore and was looking straight into the white-hot wrath of one of the four Archangels.

Okay, previous hypothesis had just been proven incorrect. Conclusion? She was screwed, royally.

And maybe concussed too, but that wasn't a sure thing. The world was definitely doing a damn good impression of a Tilt-a-Whirl right then though.

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Gabriel snarled through gritted teeth, and Jesse looked at him dazedly before she quirked an eyebrow.

"Nope," she said almost proudly, popping the 'p' before she gave the man a broad grin. "You really are an angry little man, aren't you?"

Something flashed across the angel's face, an emotion so alien that Jesse couldn't even begin to identify it, before he roughly peeled the woman away from the wall and flung her towards Sam, who somehow managed to catch her before she went 'splat'. The woman let out a low groan as she shook her head, trying to get her vision back in order even as her entire body shook. No, she was not going to throw up, but it was a pretty close call, especially since she was damn near _strangled_ by a pissed-off angel of the Lord.

Her thoughts were suddenly rudely interrupted by the distinctive sound of someone clapping their hands, followed shortly by a cynical, disbelieving laugh. Jesse whipped her head up to stare at Gabriel, who was looking at her with an odd expression on his face as he continued to clap. Somehow, she knew that she and the Winchesters all had similar 'what the hell?' looks on their faces as they stared at the angel, with Jesse silently wondering if Gabriel had popped a screw loose or something.

"Well done, kid, well done," the 'Trickster' said, looking like he had just solved the mystery of life as we know it. "You were trying to make me mad, weren't you? Let me guess, you still want to go home, and you were hoping that I'd boot you out of here."

At the angel's smug commentary, Jesse let out a loud groan of frustration as she clapped a hand to her face and slowly dragged it down.

"Guilty," she admitted with a shrug, although there was a definite note of sarcasm to her words. Gabriel merely grinned smugly at her in response.

"Sorry, but it doesn't work that way, kiddo," he pointed out. "Trickster. Those won't work on me. Too bad, so sad. Play again next time."

The woman gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists in an attempt to refrain from belting the so-called-Trickster upside the head. The condescending tone that he kept using on her was really driving her up the wall. And she was not a freaking kid!

"Bite me, Flyboy," she growled, and then froze when she realized what had just slipped out.

Gabriel paused for a moment, and Jesse silently prayed that he hadn't heard her even as she started to back away from the Winchesters. Something told her that this was about to get ugly, and fast. And that gut instinct turned out to be correct as the man slowly turned around to face her, a look of absolute murder in his eyes.

Jesse felt her stomach just sink with dread even as all of the color left her face, and she managed an awkward jerk of her shoulders in what may or may not have been a shrug before she spun around on her heel and bolted.

She managed to make it three steps before there was a painful yank on the back of her overshirt, and then… nothing.

* * *

Yes, fun times were had by all in this.

The 'angry little man' and 'masturbation' comments were definitely inspired by Maat's _Of The World_. Definitely a good fic, with a believable OC from the Supernatural 'verse. If you can, read it, 'cause it's pretty awesome.

Sorry that I haven't updated recently, but I've been busy. School, life… it takes its toll, and on top of everything else, I got sick the other weekend.

Not fun. Just… not fun.

My thanks to cm1197, Dragon of Twilight, BlueRidgeBeauty, Alowl, HeeHeeHee01, sudoku, and Library Bum for your reviews, and the advice given in them.

Alowl, thank you for the suggestions, and I will most certainly try to keep them in mind. Yeah, I went back and read my Fullmetal Alchemist fanfic, and I almost went and deleted it on the spot a few chapters in. Granted, I wrote that travesty of a fanfiction four years ago… when I was 17 and 18 years old. Still, it was bad. I will not deny it. It's one of those things where you look back on it and cringe, but you also remember it somewhat fondly because you learned a lot in the process as well.


	4. Chapter 4: Housten, we have a problem

_So you choose to force your hand  
What a strange way to make friends  
And you always change the rules  
So the drama never ends  
And you blindly go through life  
Judging only by what it's worth  
Just try not to forget  
That the meek inherit earth_

_Everyone plays the hand they're dealt  
And learns to walk through life themselves  
Not everything in life is handed on a plate  
When people think your words are true  
It doesn't matter what you do  
I sold my soul to get here  
How 'bout you?_

-"How About You" by **Staind**

"I believe in looking reality straight in the eye and denying it." – Garrison Kellier

**Chapter Four: "Houston, we have a problem"**

**Then:**

"_You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Gabriel snarled through gritted teeth, and Jesse looked at him dazedly before she quirked an eyebrow._"Nope," she said almost proudly, popping the 'p' before she gave the man a broad grin. "You really are an angry little man, aren't you?"

_Something flashed across the angel's face, an emotion so alien that Jesse couldn't even begin to identify it, before he roughly peeled the woman away from the wall and flung her towards Sam, who somehow managed to catch her before she went 'splat'. The woman let out a low groan as she shook her head, trying to get her vision back in order even as her entire body shook. No, she was not going to throw up, but it was a pretty close call, especially since she was damn near_ strangled_ by a pissed-off angel of the Lord._

_Her thoughts were suddenly rudely interrupted by the distinctive sound of someone clapping their hands, followed shortly by a cynical, disbelieving laugh. Jesse whipped her head up to stare at Gabriel, who was looking at her with an odd expression on his face as he continued to clap. Somehow, she knew that she and the Winchesters all had similar 'what the hell?' looks on their faces as they stared at the angel, with Jesse silently wondering if Gabriel had popped a screw loose or something._

_"Well done, kid, well done," the 'Trickster' said, looking like he had just solved the mystery of life as we know it. "You were trying to make me mad, weren't you? Let me guess, you still want to go home, and you were hoping that I'd boot you out of here."_

_At the angel's smug commentary, Jesse let out a loud groan of frustration as she clapped a hand to her face and slowly dragged it down._

_"Guilty," she admitted with a shrug, although there was a definite note of sarcasm to her words. Gabriel merely grinned smugly at her in response._

_"Sorry, but it doesn't work that way, kiddo," he pointed out. "Trickster. Those won't work on me. Too bad, so sad. Play again next time."_

_The woman gritted her teeth and clenched her hands into fists in an attempt to refrain from belting the so-called-Trickster upside the head. The condescending tone that he kept using on her was really driving her up the wall. And she was not a freaking kid!_

_"Bite me, Flyboy," she growled, and then froze when she realized what had just slipped out._

_Gabriel paused for a moment, and Jesse silently prayed that he hadn't heard her even as she started to back away from the Winchesters. Something told her that this was about to get ugly, and fast. And that gut instinct turned out to be correct as the man slowly turned around to face her, a look of absolute murder in his eyes._

_Jesse felt her stomach just sink with dread even as all of the color left her face, and she managed an awkward jerk of her shoulders in what may or may not have been a shrug before she spun around on her heel and bolted._

_She managed to make it three steps before there was a painful yank on the back of her overshirt, and then… nothing._

**Now:**

For one second, there was just nothing except for a trackless expanse of black. No up, no down, just… nothing. However, before Jesse had a chance to really comprehend just what in the hell was going on, something 'dropped' her, and she went plunging downwards. A petrified shout ripped its way from her lungs, something long and drawn-out that may or may not have involved a choice selection of profanities in various languages, and maybe even a gibbered 'ohgodohgodI'mgonnadie!'. The woman cursed up a storm as she plunged downwards, terror reducing her to the repeated utterances of "Ohshitohshitohshit" and "Ohgodohgodohgod".

Further panicked babbling was prevented when Jesse plunged deep into a body of water, and foul-tasting salt water flooded into her mouth. The woman gagged involuntarily even as a combination of survival instincts and over twenty years worth of swimming lessons and races kicked in, and she kicked her way towards the surface. After what seemed like an eternity, she broke the surface of the water and noisily expelled the combination of stale air in her lungs and salt water in her mouth the first second her head was safely above water.

Jesse coughed and hacked loudly for several long moments as she treaded water furiously before her body finally decided that it was no longer in any danger of drowning, and she allowed herself to fall back into the water enough so that she was floating on her back. A loud, exhausted sigh escaped from her mouth as she looked up at the dark sky overhead and silently swore. Repeatedly.

"Crap," she finally groaned, and that was right about when an unnaturally large wave came up from out of nowhere and crested over her head, sending her deep into the ocean.

She must have blacked out at one point or another, because when she opened her eyes again, it was sunny out and she was lying on her back on blessedly firm ground. If she hadn't felt like puking her guts out or curling into a tiny little ball and praying that everything would go back to normal when she opened her eyes, she would have rolled over and _kissed_ said ground.

This whole thing sucked. In fact, it sucked so bad that not even a black hole had anything on it.

"You're awake."

The simple statement, delivered in an almost emotionless tone of voice, made Jesse immediately twist away from the speaker as she tried to sit up. She ended up doing a face-plant right into the sand instead.

A hand grasped her firmly by the back of her overshirt – which was back to the army green roll-tab that she been wearing originally, she noted dazedly – and hauled her into an upright position. Jesse staggered back away from the individual as she looked up, and tensed up unconsciously when she found herself staring into a pair of eerily blue eyes. Castiel. Castiel was the one who had grabbed her, and had probably hauled her unconscious ass out of the ocean to boot.

She was so, _so_ very screwed.

"Umm… hi?" she ventured hesitantly, shrugging uncomfortably under the intense gaze of the angel. Castiel merely canted his head to the side slightly, frowning as he did so.

"You're… not supposed to be here," he finally said slowly, and Jesse felt a chill run through her at the older male's words. She swallowed nervously in response before she adopted an uncaring mask and shrugged. The woman tried not to look too guilty as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and winced as the rough, salt-stiffened clothing rubbed uncomfortably against her legs. Okay, it was a toss-up on what was worse; a forced swimming lesson in the ocean while still in your clothes or wearing said clothes after they had dried out from the aforementioned dip in the briny deep.

"Don't exactly have much of a choice in the matter," she retorted grumpily, and somehow managed to tear her eyes away from Castiel's intense gaze so she could look around her. Nope, nada. There was nothing that was even remotely useful in identifying where in the bloody hell they were. "Uh, by the way, where is 'here', exactly?"

The angel frowned as he looked at her for several moments before he directed his gaze over towards the thick edge of shrubbery that began several feet up the beach. Jesse followed where his eyes were focused and shifted slightly in her spot. If a freaking velociraptor popped out of the bushes, then she would be _gone_. There was no way in hell that she would willingly end up in a remake of _Jurassic Park_, especially with Gabriel in control of the end results.

Getting violently maimed to death by a T-Rex or some other equally extinct creature? Nuh-uh, that was not on the list of things she wanted to experience in this lifetime.

Something in one of the patches of shrub made the bushes start to shake, and both of them looked over at the trembling foliage with various degrees of trepidation. Correction: Jesse stared at the bushes and looked like she was about to bolt while Castiel just canted his head to the side with a faint frown on his face. And then, without any further fanfare, the source of the movement stepped out from the tangle of vegetation and came to a stop right before it hit the sand.

For several seconds, all Jesse could do was stare. Once she had finally recovered from her shock and regained the use of her voice though, the woman let out a distinctly canine-sounding growl as she shoved her hands into her pockets so no one could see how badly they were trembling.

"Oh, I am going to _kill_ that man," she snarled, momentarily startling Castiel with sheer amount of venom in her voice. "With an _ice pick_."

The very distinctive sound of someone pumping the action on a gun returned their attention to the craggy-looking man who had just stepped out of the jungle, and Jesse blanched slightly as he aimed it right at her.

"I wouldn't be doin' that if I were you," he warned, and the woman hissed out a soft curse under her breath.

She was in _Lost_. She hated _Lost_. She hated it with a bloody and fiery passion that would never die, not even if it got doused with a fire hose. It was a horrible, depressing plot-hole of a show, and the final ending had sucked up to wahzoo. Seriously, it was all just a dream? What kind of bullshit ending was that? Well, the ending hadn't been the only thing that had sucked – the entire show was a waste of film and airtime. Not to mention that several of the characters – like the cranky, paranoid old guy whose name escaped her and also happened to be the selfsame jerk-off pointing the gun at her – just ticked her off.

A nervous twitch decided to manifest itself right next to Jesse's right eye, and the sound of her grinding her teeth could be clearly heard by both the man and the angel.

"I. Hate. This. Game," she finally ground out, slowly enunciating each word as though she was speaking to particularly slow child.

Before the man aiming the gun could react to her seemingly-odd statement, like shooting her in the chest or something equally unpleasant, Jesse reached out with one hand and grabbed the front of Castiel's trench coat. The angel's eyes widened slightly as he stared down at the smaller woman, who looked like she was either about commit homicide or do something incredibly stupid. For one second, an odd expression crossed her face before her lips quirked up into a humorless smirk.

"Castiel, run," she said simply before she took off, somehow managing to drag the hapless angel a short distance along behind her.

There was the sound of fingers snapping, and she was alone again. In a metal hallway. With a giant pepper shaker sitting in front of her and aiming what looked like a toilet plunger at her.

"_ENEMY SIGHTED! SUBMIT, OR YOU WILL BE EXTER-MINATED!_" the pepper pot shrilled, and Jesse let out a low groan even as she gave the creature a sufficiently weary look.

"Well shit," she muttered.

* * *

It was like being stuck in _Mystery Spot_, only instead of Dean dying in horrifying and humiliating manners, she was the one stuck in that role. And she remembered every single death.

Hit in the back with a Dalek death ray. Strangled by a serial killer with some serious mommy issues. Beheaded by a pissed-off Visser Three. Flattened by a piano dropped by Wile E. Coyote. Run over by a bus. Shot in the chest during an NCIS firefight. Coughing up blood in a hospital room as one Gregory House bluntly explained that she had a very rare form of tuberculosis. Eating improperly prepared _fugu_, puffer fish. Puking her guts out in the dark alleyway of some random city after somehow consuming a spiked soda. Ripped to shreds by a Reaver. Skewered through the chest by a spiny Denarian. Electrocuted. Shot. Burned. Stabbed. Poisoned. Crushed. Strangled. Beaten. Frozen.

To be brutally honest, the worst part wasn't the deaths, or even just getting screwed with in the process. No, the absolute worst part of this whole fiasco was the fact that Jesse knew that there was no one who would save her. There was no one who would intercede on her behalf, even if she did hate the very concept of being some kind of damsel in distress with an almost unholy passion. What she really wanted right now though was her dad.

Unfortunately, there was no way in hell that her dad would just magically appear in front of her, kick some ass, and then get her out of this nightmare. That would be too easy.

And now, for the icing on the freaking cake, she was currently on the receiving end of a fitting for concrete shoes and enjoying the lovely underwater view of the Boston Harbor, courtesy of the Irish Mob.

Granted though, Jesse had in no way made it easy for them. She had struggled kicking and screaming for as long as she could before she was threatened with being shot – although, considering what had been waiting for her, that was probably the better option. And then she had persisted in shrieking every single obscenity that she could possibly think of, although she mostly stuck to what Gaelic profanities she knew.

Not that it had done her any good though. They had still chucked her out into the harbor without even hesitating.

Part of her felt betrayed, a very small part that still retained the naivety of childhood, while the rest of her was infinitely more concerned over the fact that she was stuck underwater. Again. Already her vision was doing funky things, wavering in and out as Jesse tried her damndest to hold her breath. Not exactly the smartest thing to do, especially since her lungs were screaming for one last breath of oxygen. The woman felt her body start to shut down as oxygen deprivation finally got to her, and she instinctively gasped for air.

Filthy harbor water flooded her mouth and Jesse, powerless to do anything, gagged. Within seconds, her entire world went mercifully black.

"_The Impressionistic movement eventually divided into two different styles; Post-Impressionistic, and Symbolistic. Various well-known artists developed from those two styles, like Van Gogh-"_

_Jesse yelped loudly as she shot up in her seat, eyes wide and chest heaving as she looked around her almost frantically before she quickly patted herself down. She was fine; no stab wounds, wet clothes, gunshot wounds, or any other evidence of being screwed with by a pissed-off Archangel. She was perfectly okay. The woman looked up at the projection screen in front of her, and then at the lecture hall that she was seated in, before she sagged down into her seat in sheer and utter relief._

_She was back in her Art History class, not stuck in some warped episode of _Supernatural_. Everything was fine and normal, no life-or-death situations, no Gabriel, no Apocalypse, no Winchesters, nothing. She never would have thought that it would be such a relief to find out that she had fallen asleep during class._

"_Oh thank God," she sighed, relief flooding through her as she sunk down in the uncomfortable theater chair that she was seated in. Talk about a bad dream. It hadn't really felt like a nightmare at first, but near the end, especially with all of the killings, it had quickly turned into one._

_Jesse shook her head before she allowed the back of her head to rest against the backrest of the chair. For some reason she was completely wiped out._

"Kid, wake up!"

_The voice came from right behind her, but when Jesse shot up in her seat and whirled around, there was no one behind her. There was nothing there but an empty aisle. Goosebumps immediately crawled down her back and upper arms as the woman swallowed nervously, her eyes wide as she slowly sank back down into her seat. She had a bad feeling about this._

_And then, just when she was about to obey her instincts and get the hell out of Dodge, something swiped her feet out from under her and slammed her face-first into the floor._

Jesse jerked back into awareness coughing and hacking, her lungs screaming for air even as her body tried to retch up seawater that was no longer in her system. After several long, painful moments, the heaving stopped, and the woman allowed herself to collapse into an exhausted heap on the cold cement floor beneath her. Her ribs hurt like hell, and she felt like shit, but she was still breathing. Breathing was good. Breathing meant that she wasn't dead.

"There, the kid's back and breathing. Happy now?" a horribly familiar voice sneered irritably, and Jesse cracked open one eye just long enough to verify that Gabriel was indeed in front of her, and was slightly relieved to see that he was trapped in a ring of holy fire. Good, maybe that would help him refrain from further acts of attempted homicide.

"'m not a kid," she muttered weakly as she tried to get to her feet, only for her legs to decide that no, they were not up to supporting her, and immediately crumpled to the floor. A strong hand gripped her upper arm and hauled her up to her feet, supporting the trembling woman even as she wobbled unsteadily in her spot. She felt like a freaking newborn colt. Actually, scratch that. A newborn colt could probably run circles around her right now.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," the voice of one Dean Winchester stated dryly from right next to her, and Jesse realized that he was the one keeping her vertical.

The sound of someone clearing their throat loudly brought their attention back to Gabriel, who stood there with his arms crossed as he stared at them.

"So, where did I screw up?" he asked impatiently. Dean gave the 'man' a considering look even as Sam spoke up.

"You didn't," the taller man said simply by way of explanation. "But nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did."

Dean didn't even glance down at Jesse as he released the woman's arm and took a step towards the trapped archangel, leaving her to stumble backwards slightly as she tried not to look too nervous. She didn't want to be here, especially not after getting killed in about thirty different ways by a pissed-off angel. But what could she do? What _should_ she do?

"Mostly, it was the way you talked about Armageddon," the older man continued as he stared intently at Gabriel.

"Meaning?" Oh no, his tone of voice wasn't sarcastic at all.

Dean gave him a humorless smile in return, somehow managing to look unamused yet sarcastic all at the same time.

"Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family," the hunter remarked candidly. Jesse could almost feel the death glare that she received from Gabriel after that comment, but pretended that she didn't notice it as she looked around the dilapidated warehouse for her backpack, and silently cheered when she spotted it resting not too far away from the back door to the place. At least she didn't have to worry about whether or not she'd get that back now.

"So, which one are you?" Sam asked suddenly. "Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?"

The angel flicked his eyes over towards the younger Winchester even as a cold, irritated mask slid into place.

"Gabriel, okay?" he said softly before he repeated himself a little louder, a slight hint of cynicism in his voice. "They call me Gabriel."

You could have heard a pin drop, it was so quiet in that empty warehouse. The steady crackling of the flames that encircled Gabriel was the only sound as both Winchester stared at him, clearly stunned. The only one who wasn't surprised by this abrupt revelation was probably Jesse, and that was only through the sheer virtue of the fact that she had already known.

Instead of looking shocked like the Winchesters were, the woman merely averted her gaze from scene before her and gripped her elbows tightly. She didn't care if she looked guilty or like she was hiding something; all she wanted to do right now was to leave and never come back.

"Gabriel?" Sam said shortly, disbelief evident on his face as he stared down the 'Trickster'. "The archangel?"

A strained smirk crossed Gabriel's face even as he quickly cocked his head to the side, acting for one moment like his old self. "Guilty."

"Okay, Gabriel," Dean all but growled. "How does an archangel become a trickster?"

"A really good plastic surgeon?" Jesse muttered dryly under her breath, and received a sharp look from Gabriel for her troubles. The woman somehow managed to keep a blank face under the archangel's truly massive stink-eye, but that didn't mean that she wasn't relieved when he returned his attention to Sam and Dean.

She needed to get out of here, and soon. If she didn't, she'd most likely end up losing her temper or saying something _really_ stupid, either of which would probably get her killed.

"My own private witness protection. I skipped out of Heaven, had a face transplant; carved out my own little corner of the world," Gabriel stated almost smugly, but irritation quickly flashed across his face as he looked at the two hunters and pointed accusatorily at them with both hands. "'Till you two screwed it all up."

Dean cocked a questioning eyebrow as he stared at the archangel speculatively, and he and Sam continued to barrage Gabriel with questions. Jesse just chose to ignore them as she tried to think of a way to get out of the warehouse with her skin and sanity relatively intact. She had bigger problems than listening to two full-grown men and a millennia-old archangel bicker like a couple of pre-schoolers.

For god's sake, she had a four-year-old cousin who was more mature than these three.

It wasn't until Dean made some kind of smart-ass remark about angels being heavyweight douchenozzles that Jesse returned her attention to the three men, just in time to see Gabriel blow a gasket over the insult.

"Shut your cakehole!" Gabriel snapped as he glared furiously at the hunter. "You don't know anything about my family. I love my father, my brothers. Love them." His face twisted into a strange, pained expression as he quickly sucked in a deep breath and resumed his rant. "But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other's throats? I couldn't bear it! Okay? So I left. And now it's happening all over again."

"Then help us stop it."

The archangel gave Sam a mock pitying look in response. "It can't be stopped."

"You don't know that," Jesse protested suddenly, fed up with Gabriel's whining, and froze when all three men turned around to stare at her. Apparently they had forgotten that she was there. Not that that was a bad thing.

Dammit, she should have bolted when she had the chance.

Gabriel gave a humorless laugh as he stared at her, making the woman flinch automatically.

"You wanna bet on that?" he sneered.

"You _want_ to see the end of the world?" Dean snapped, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing, effective drawing some very much unwanted attention away from the woman.

"I want it to be over!" the angel retorted hotly. "I have to sit back and watch my own brothers kill each other thanks to you two! Heaven, Hell, I don't care who wins, I just want it to be over!" Seconds after Sam sputtered out an objection, Gabriel let out a short laugh even as he gave the hunters a gimlet-eyed glare, any and all traces of humor gone from his face.

"Oh, you do not know my family. What you guys call the Apocalypse, _I_ used to call Sunday dinner," he snapped as he gestured sharply to the side.

Jesse couldn't help but roll her eyes at the comment. If he thought that Sunday dinner with his family was bad, then he should see Christmas or Thanksgiving with her mom's side of the family. Talk about awkward. Someone was always giving someone else the silent treatment, and if you broke the taboo of talking to them behind so and so's back, then they would snub you too. It was a nightmare, honestly.

While Gabriel was busy crying, pissing, and moaning, she used the lack of attention on her to slowly start edging towards where her backpack sat. She had just gotten within ten yards of the pack when a loud comment broke her concentration.

"You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was _always_ you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth," Gabriel announced almost dramatically as he raised his hands up towards the ceiling of the building before he allowed them to drop, and fixed the Winchesters with an intense stare. "One brother has to kill the other."

That comment rang in Jesse's ears with an eerie finality, and for one moment she felt as though she was going to be sick as Andy came to mind. The mere thought of someone forcing her to kill her brother made her want to either hurl or punch the offending bastard's face in. A single word, slipping from her throat in a threatening snarl, escaped before she could even think about it as she spun around to face the archangel.

"Bullshit."

Gabriel stiffened up for a second before he slowly turned around to face her.

"Excuse me?" he asked as he cocked his head to the side, the question coming out more as a demand.

Jesse jerked slightly in surprise as she stared wide-eyed at the archangel before she shook her head and straightened up. She was tired of being the shrinking violet here, and she was still more than a little pissed off that Gabriel had stuffed her into a TV-Land version of Mystery Spot.

Getting angry was definitely better than being scared shitless or a complete and total wuss.

"You heard me," she said as she took a step towards the fire, her hands balled into fists as she lifted her chin defiantly in an attempt to not look cowed. "I said bullshit."

Gabriel opened his mouth to say something, probably some kind of scathing, derisive retort, but Jesse didn't give him the chance as she barreled right on, because she knew the second that she hesitated she'd be screwed.

"'Cause it doesn't matter what you call it," she continued, her entire body trembling with either fear or anger, she wasn't exactly sure, as she glared defiantly at the archangel. "Fate, karma, kismet, destiny; it's all nothing more than a giant crock of shit cooked up by a bunch of gutless douchebags who are too damn _scared_ to actually take responsibility for their own actions!"

Silence crashed down around them as Jesse stood there stiffly, trembling a little from anxiety as all three of the men in the room stared at her, two like she had taken leave of her senses, and the other like he was about to commit homicide, and swallowed nervously. Finally, Gabriel seemed to regain his composure – not that he had really lost it to begin with – and rounded on the young woman with a vengeance, his face twisting into an ugly expression.

"Kid, you don't even know what the hell we're talking about," he retorted pithily, his lips twisting into a sneer as he flicked a hand at her dismissively. "So why don't you go toddle off and play house like a good little girl."

For one second Jesse's entire vision went red from rage at the man's words, and deep down, something inside of her just snapped.

The woman didn't say anything as she slowly walked towards the edge of the blazing circle that the archangel was trapped in, her expression kept carefully neutral as she kept going until she was right at the edge of the almost face-level flames. For several seconds she just stood there and stared at Gabriel, her face blank, and she could tell that she was actually unnerving the man. It was actually sort of funny, in a really sad, twisted kind of way. Back home, she couldn't keep a straight face no matter what, especially when she was trying to bitch Andy out for being a dumbass.

Then again, Andy had never said something as insulting as that to her.

"You're right, I don't know what you're talking about," Jesse finally said in a deceptively even tone of voice as she stared at intently Gabriel, her lips twitching up into an ironic little half smile as she canted her head slightly to the side. "I mean, what could some random kid who got road-hauled into your little game of mind-fuck _possibly_ know about the Apocalypse. How could I know anything about Bevis over there-" she punctuated the remark with a careless jerk of her thumb over her shoulder, plainly indicating towards Sam, "- popping fucking _Satan_ loose from his little jail cell down in Hell and jump-starting the end of days. And there's no way in hell that I could even have a _clue_ about Mikey and Lucy having the mother of all pissing matches and wreaking sheer, _bloody_ _**havoc**_ on the entire _fucking _planet once they get meatsuits all of their very own."

Her breath was coming in short, shaky bursts as the woman just stood there, trembling visibly from barely restrained fury as she gave the archangel a long, flat stare that was so full of hate and frustration that it actually made him recoil a little.

"I have been shot, stabbed, and endured God only knows what other forms of painful and degrading manners of death today," Jesse snarled, her voice steadily increasing in volume as she continued to rant. "And all because of some _moron_ with serious family issues!"

The woman stood there, breathing heavily with her arms held stiffly by her sides, hands tightly clenched into white-knuckled fists as she stared at Gabriel with a slightly wild look in her eyes. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, it looked like Jesse had calmed down, but there was still an odd expression in her eyes that made all three of the males in the warehouse tense up slightly.

"So, you know what?" she said softly as she leaned in towards Gabriel, just inches away from the flames, her expression dead serious. "Fuck this." She pivoted smartly on her heel and stalked off towards where her backpack sat on the concrete warehouse floor, quickly snatching the bag up by one on the straps as she walked towards the door as fast as she could without breaking into an outright run. "Fuck this stupid place, fuck angels, fuck the damn Apocalypse, fuck Kripke, and fuck _you_!"

And then she was outside, with the heavy door swinging shut behind her almost ominously, and nobody following her. Jesse stood there for a few seconds, practically hyperventilating as she stared wide-eyed at the door before she realized that she had made it out of the abandoned paper mill relatively intact and without being jumped by pissed-off hunters or angels. The woman made a soft noise in the back of her throat, one that sounded almost like a strangled, hysterical laugh, before she turned around and ran as fast as she could down the dirt road leading away from the mill.

As long as she had the opportunity to get the hell out of Dodge, then she might as well take it.

* * *

It took roughly around an hour, hour and a half, to reach the outskirts of the town, and most of it had involved trudging along dirt roads with an on-again off-again drizzle. By the time that Jesse finally reached the town, she was wet, miserable, and wanted nothing more than to just start screaming and not stop. Not to mention the fact that she was so frustrated that she was almost to the point of tears.

"Wellington, Ohio," she stated flatly as she stared at the nice, big sign that very cheerfully proclaimed where she was. She wanted to _throttle_ that sign. "Nice. Lovely. I spend my entire life trying to _avoid_ this part of the Midwest, and I get dragged there against my will. Fantastic."

Middle of nowhere town, Ohio was pretty freakin' far from Tempe, Arizona.

Jesse allowed herself to slump forward against the big wooden sign, a choked sob making its way from her throat as her eyes started to burn. She had never been this far away from her family before by herself, and she didn't even know what to do. The obvious thing was to go home, somehow, but where to start? A plane ticket was definitely out: she didn't make enough as a part-time busser to just fork over three or four hundred dollars in one go. Plus she really didn't feel like fighting with airport security over the fact that she had purchased a same-day, one-way plane ticket. Way too much trouble, even if it did manage to get her home within the next day or two.

Hitchhiking was a risk, a _huge _one, especially since she didn't have just normal weirdos to worry about now. Honestly, _normal_ psychopaths were scary enough, but possessed psychopaths? If that wasn't the stuff that nightmares were made of, then she didn't know what was.

Tears started to drip down Jesse's face as she stared down at the ground, her entire body shaking from barely repressed sobs. She was lost, alone, and she wanted her mom. Hell, if anything, she at least wished that Andy was here with her. Andy was always the man with the plan, and even if he didn't have one he was usually able to bullshit long enough to come up with one. Plus, if he was here with her, he'd be making smart-assed comments left and right while giving any angels or hunters the infamous Harper 'do _not_ screw with me look'.

Heck, he probably would have told Gabriel to go screw himself back at the mill, and then once they had booked it, looked over at her with wide eyes and whispered something roughly along the lines of "What a douchebag". Andy had never done subtle very well.

The thought was enough to make her smile weakly. Jesse straightened up and looked at the overtly cheerful 'Welcome to Wellington' sign, sniffed miserably, and dragged the back of her hand across her eyes. She had to get a grip and suck it up; otherwise she'd never get home. She was Jesse Anne Harper. She was a headstrong, independent twenty-two-year-old woman, and she could do this on her own.

Once she was back home however, emotional breakdowns and freaking out would be perfectly acceptable.

With a resigned sigh, Jesse shifted the strap of her backpack so it wasn't digging into her shoulder and headed off into the town. Wait a sec… didn't most places have some kind of cross-country bus station or something? All she needed to do was find one of those, or get to the closest town with one, and then get on the first bus back to Arizona. Doing that was at least better than moping around and worrying about stuff that she couldn't do too much about. Plus, it was probably cheaper than a plane ticket.

A relieved smile crossed the woman's face at this realization, and she let out a soft huff as she increased her pace, keeping an eye out for anything that would result in… well, bad things. The second she saw an angel, Lucifer, a flash of black eyes, or either one of the Winchesters, she would be _gone_. Whatever kind of crap was going on, she did not want to get involved. Dealing with the Apocalypse, or stopping it, or whatever was happening, it definitely wasn't her idea of something that she wanted to get tangled up in. She was not suicidal, and she had no intentions of ever allowing herself to be dragged into a full-blown pissing match between a couple of immature archangels with major Daddy issues.

She would leave that for the stupid little rabid fangirls who thought that dealing with this kind of crap was _fun_. Last time she checked, she actually _wanted_ to live long enough to see her next birthday. Then again, nobody outside of books or movies ever got pulled into some kind of fictional reality either.

Jesse let out a low growl as she swiftly smacked herself upside the head, the pain forcing her to abandon that train of thought entirely. Dammit, she needed to stop thinking like that! If she kept it up, she'd never get home.

Surprisingly, all it took to find a bus station – and yes, Wellington did actually have one – was a nonchalant question to a passing pedestrian. Not even fifteen minutes later Jesse found herself standing outside the station, shivering slightly as night started to fall while she stared apprehensively at the station. Honestly, she didn't know what to expect in there. But still, it was a damn sight better than just standing out here in the rain like an idiot.

Jesse squared her shoulders as she started to walk stiffly towards the front door to the bus station… and then promptly abandoned any and all attempts at dignity when thunder rolled loudly overhead and rain started to come down in buckets, forcing her to bolt for the shelter of the station's front stoop with a yelp. She scrambled up the concrete steps, and shivered unconsciously as she looked back at the downpour that was pounding against the roof. For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that this storm wasn't exactly… well, normal. Then again, she was probably just being paranoid.

Although, given the past several hours, it was probably a good idea to be suspicious, just to be on the safe side.

The young woman sighed wearily as she entered the warm interior of the station before she reached up to run a hand through her soaking-wet hair, trying to push her wet bangs out of her eyes so they didn't look like they were plastered to her face. It didn't work. Jesse frowned and shook her head as she went up to the front counter, giving the middle-aged woman behind it a timid smile when she looked up from the computer.

A single finely-plucked eyebrow rose upwards at the sight of the bedraggled young adult standing on the other side of the desk, and Jesse shrugged helplessly in response to the careful scrutiny that she received.

"Ummm… is there a bus that goes to Arizona?" she finally asked timidly. The older woman quickly typed something into her computer before she looked back up at Jesse, who shifted from foot to foot with a faint squishing noise. Her Converse were soaked all the way through and coated liberally in spatters of thick, reddish mud.

"There is one, but it doesn't leave until eleven-thirty tomorrow morning," the woman stated thoughtfully before she looked up at Jesse and frowned, dropping the uninterested mask. "Honey, I don't mean to pry, but what happened to you? You look like something the cat dragged in. I mean, you don't even have a coat on, especially in this weather."

For one second Jesse couldn't believe what the older woman had said before she let out a short bark of humorless laughter, the sound dropping off into a strained chuckle even as she shook her head. She smiled weakly as she reached up and dragged her fingers through her bangs, pulling them out of her face. What explanation could she possibly give that wouldn't have them calling for the men with the straightjackets and heavy drugs?

Wait a sec; when it doubt, go for sympathy.

Jesse swallowed visibly as she let some of the stress that she was feeling show, and shifted in her spot as though she was deeply embarrassed.

"I… I go to school out in Arizona," she stammered. "We had fall break this week, and I flew out here with my boyfriend to meet his family. I mean, he had already met mine and everything, so I figured that it was only fair to do the same…" Jesse trailed off as she winced at the thought of doing something so monumentally stupid. "Anyways… he decided that we needed to take our relationship to the 'next level', I told him no, and he dumped me."

The woman's eyes widened as she stared at Jesse almost incredulously, and the younger female shrugged helplessly in response.

"What did his parents have to say about that?" she finally asked, and Jesse scowled.

"His dad was the one who suggested it in the first place," she remarked dryly. She could almost see the gears in the other woman's head spinning at the mere thought, and a flicker of relief washed over her as the older woman's expression darkened slightly.

"What's his name?"

Jesse allowed herself the luxury of smiling faintly at the woman's reaction before she shook her head, indicating that everything was okay. "He's not from here. He lives in the next town over."

The woman relaxed slightly at the information given, but she still looked deeply unhappy with the situation. "So he made you leave?"

"No, I walked out when he drove me out to some road in the middle of nowhere and tried to kiss me."

If looks could kill, then Jesse's non-existent boyfriend would probably have spontaneously burst into flames wherever he was at that very moment. Okay, sympathy worked… maybe a little too well. And on top of that she felt absolutely horrible over the idea of lying to this woman. Great, a guilt trip. Just what she needed on top of all the bullshit that she already had to deal with.

The woman – her name tag read 'Patricia' – immediately started typing something into the computer even as she stood there and watched. Jesse stared at the woman almost warily before she realized that she was probably entering information for a bus ticket. Patricia stopped typing and something started printing behind the counter, and Jesse immediately shoved her hand into the pocket of her jeans for her wallet. Okay, it looked like she was getting a bus ticket home. Whee-ha.

"Its one hundred and twenty dollars," Patricia said softly as she slid the ticket across the counter to Jesse, who stared at the slip of cardstock with wide eyes for a moment before she hesitantly handed the older woman her debit card. "They're normally over two hundred. I added on several discounts for you."

Jesse's jaw briefly dropped in shock at the usual price before she shook her head and accepted both the ticket and her card as they were handed to her.

"Thanks," she muttered hoarsely as she slid her card back into her wallet and shoved it into her pocket. She was about to turn around and find someplace to wait when Patricia reached across the counter and grasped her wrist, forcing the younger woman to pull up short even as she looked over at the older female.

"There's a lost and found bin just around the corner," the clerk instructed as she gave Jesse a conspiratorial wink. "There should be a jacket in there that will fit you. We usually donate them to Goodwill anyways after a certain amount of time. And there's a Goodwill just down the street, right next to the Laundromat."

Translation: Grab a jacket, go get some clothes that aren't soaking wet, and wash the ones you're wearing.

Jesse gave the older woman a relieved smile before she turned around and followed the hallway towards where Patricia had pointed her. Thank… well, someone, that she hadn't tried to pry further into her story. In all honesty, Jesse wasn't entirely sure that she could have made up a convincing story if she had been pressured further.

A weary smile flickered across her face even as she shook her head and let out a soft sigh. Her dad was right. She was a bad liar.

* * *

Bleary-eyed and groggy, Jesse stumbled out the front door of the station the next morning, silently thankful that it had finally stopped raining during the night. She had spent the night in the cross-country bus station, along with a handful of other people. Her back did not thank her for that, especially since she had conked out on a hard wooden bench for the night, completely exhausted from the day's previous events.

Grumbling softly under her breath, the woman shoved her hands into deep into the pockets of the slightly worn-looking tan corduroy jacket that she had on over the 'new' clothes that she had obtained from the local Goodwill before they had closed yesterday. For a little over twenty bucks, she had gotten a pair of jeans that were in decent shape, clean socks, a boy's navy v-necked t-shirt, and a red and dark blue plaid flannel button-down. Throw in a shower in the station's locker room and drying out her Converse with the hand-dryer in the bathroom, and Jesse felt at least halfway human.

Patricia had all but booted her out to get some breakfast when she had come in to work and found out that she hadn't eaten anything yet – she looked so indignant over the fact that Jesse didn't have the heart to tell her that she usually didn't eat breakfast, outside of snatching an apple or a piece of toast before she had to run out the door.

"She has to a mom, has to be," the woman muttered with a wry laugh as she shook her head, pointedly ignoring the loud growl that came from her stomach. She hadn't eaten anything the night before either, outside of a package of peanut butter cookies and a bag of potato chips from the vending machine in the station.

Actually, breakfast was probably a really good idea.

Jesse adjusted her backpack with a sigh, her breath fogging the air in front of her as she trudged into town to look for someplace to get something to eat. Heck, at this point even Mickey D's was starting to sound appetizing.

A small store somewhere off to the side caught her attention, and the young woman couldn't help but grin when she saw that the place was open. Finally, some good luck. A bookstore with a coffee shop inside – her own special kind of haven. Anyplace that sold books was guaranteed to have at least a little peace and quiet available, and any time spent there meant that she wasn't sitting around waiting in the bus station.

She purchased a cup of hot apple cider and a bagel with cream cheese from the coffee counter, found an unoccupied table close to the back wall of the bookstore, and plugged her laptop in. Within a few minutes Jesse was hooked up to the local Wi-Fi connection and logged into her e-mail, trying to see if anyone had left her a message.

Nada.

Jesse's right eye twitched slightly even as she canted her head to the side slightly and stared at her computer screen for several moments, a confused frown making its way across her face even as she went and hit the refresh button. Again, nothing. With an irritated sigh the woman glanced over at the calendar that hung on the wall behind the coffee counter, and immediately felt all of the blood drain from her face.

It was November 12th, 2009.

A feeling of sick dread wormed its way about in the lower depths of her stomach, and it was all Jesse could do not to start swearing and never stop as she buried her face in her hands with a loud moan. It had been September 20th, 2010 when she had 'left', and her 22nd birthday to boot – oh, the irony of this entire fiasco was not lost on her – and now she was almost an entire year in the past… in a completely fictional reality. If Jesse had thought at all that screaming until she was blue in the face would help, then she would have.

Every time she thought that she was close to getting out of this massive FUBAR, something else popped up and knocked her flat on her ass! This was not happening. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't be. And why hadn't she remembered that the 5th season of _Supernatural_ had first aired last year? That would explain the time travel, but still…

Jesse gave a low, shaky sigh as she leaned back in her chair and stared up at the bookstore ceiling with a kind of weary resignation. It was now official. Her life _sucked_.

"Someone up there hates my guts. That is the _only_ logical explanation," she muttered under her breath as she straightened up and dragged a hand through her bangs, making them fall back into place at slightly odd angles

Well, that certainly explained why she hadn't received any e-mails from her parents and brother demanding to know where in the hell she was. The woman sighed once again before she shook her head and started to clean out her inbox, working on deleting various messages and coupons from companies that so desperately wanted her to purchase their products. She had been busy doing this for several minutes – she was just killing time now until it got close to the time for the bus to arrive – when someone flopped down in the seat across from her.

Jesse didn't even bother to look up from her laptop as she finished cleaning out her inbox and started looking up various state maps. She wanted to at least have _some_ kind of idea of where she was going and how long it would take her. From the looks of things, the trip would probably take about three to four days. Well, if everything went according to plan.

Which, she realized dryly, was probably somewhere on the nth side of never with how her luck was going at the moment.

It was right about then that the numbskull sitting across from her started slurping his drink loudly. The woman twitched at the sound, but continued to ignore the offending individual in favor of continuing her research. She was twenty-two. She was mature enough to ignore some retard with no manners whatsoever. When he kept slurping though, finally drawing out one, long, loud slurp that would have sent her grandmother into a tizzy if she had been there, Jesse snapped.

"Look, would you please quit that?" she growled irritably as she looked up at the man. "Were you raised in a barn or-"

The rest of what she was about to say died in her throat when she saw who exactly was sitting across from her, and then it was all she could do to fight back the feeling of nausea that threatened to swamp her. With a strangled noise that could only loosely be classified as a whimper Jesse shot out of her seat so fast that she almost knocked over her chair, her finger nails digging into the tender flesh of her palms even as she stared at the man in front of her. He stopped slurping on his drink – some kind of Starbucks-esque coffee thing, one with lots of whipped cream, caramel and chocolate syrup – and gave her an 'I'm innocent, really, but I'm screwing with you big time' smile, one that was almost a borderline smirk.

Jesse swallowed nervously in response. She was so, _so_ screwed.

"I think you and I need to talk," Gabriel said as he flashed her a quick, sarcastic smirk before he snapped his fingers, and Jesse found herself back in her chair. The woman stared at him apprehensively and let out a shaky breath, trying not to show the archangel just how completely and utterly freaked she was.

There was one thing that honestly and truly scared the ever-loving crap out of her when it came to Gabriel. He didn't kill people. He destroyed them. And it had taken him shoving her into a proverbial, seemingly-endless version of South Park, where she was Kenny every half-hour, for her to realize this. Actually, her only saving grace was the fact that he _hadn't_ stuffed her into South Park. She probably would have gone insane within five minutes.

Jesse sighed before she settled down in her seat and stared down at the tabletop, seemingly fascinated by her hands as she aimlessly drummed her fingertips against the tile surface.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked as she reluctantly looked up from her table, an expression of weary resignation on her face as she decided that it was best that she just get right to the point. "You obviously don't care about what's going on here, or the Apocalypse. You made that much perfectly clear yesterday. And I have nothing even remotely of interest to offer." She paused for a moment, frowned thoughtfully, and then winced. "Unless you're here to annoy me."

Gabriel stared at her almost disbelievingly for a split second before he threw back his head and burst out laughing.

The woman smiled hesitantly even as she edged away, glancing around her nervously at the other people who were up and about, and were now staring at the madly laughing man and the incredibly uncomfortable-looking young woman sitting with him as they received their morning caffeine. If hiding under the table were at all feasible at that moment, then Jesse would have done so. Eventually Gabriel stopped laughing, and people lost interest with them soon enough, turning around and going back to the process of obtaining said caffeine.

Not a single damn one of them even bothered to notice the fact that she looked like she would rather be anywhere but there.

A loud snap caught her attention, and Jesse looked up at Gabriel with wide eyes before her gaze darted around the rest of the room. It looked like no one was looking their way now, almost as though… Jesse blanched visibly as a realization struck her, and had to fight the urge to just start pounding her forehead against the little table _now_. Fifty bucks said that Gabriel had done some kind of 'notice-me-not' thing on the area.

Great, that meant that he could kill her right then and there without anyone noticing.

The angel in question gave her a smug look, one that made Jesse want to deck him right there and screw the consequences.

"So, having fun?" he asked cheerfully. Jesse gave him the mother of all evil eyes in response as she crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to let him see that she was actually trembling in her seat.

A heavy silence hung between them, serving to only make the young woman even more nervous than she already was. Gabriel smirked darkly at her, and Jesse shot out of her seat in a knee-jerk reaction, standing ramrod-straight even as she trembled visibly. No matter how badass she always tried to sound normally, she knew that she was truly out of her depth here. With a shaky breath, she decided to just cut straight to the chase.

"Look you, I don't even know why you're here. I have nothing of interest for you, and-"

Gabriel cut her off as he held a single finger up before he gave her a sidelong glance, a grim look on his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Yeah, actually you do," he said slowly. "You weren't surprised when I told the muttonheads who I was. At all."

Jesse paled drastically at the comment even as she shook her head, her eyes wide in shock before she managed to adopt a slightly less panicked expression. Oh dear God, she was gonna die. He knew. He had noticed her reaction yesterday and now he knew. "No, I didn't know-"

"Stop lying." It wasn't so much a command as it was a threat, the words being delivered in a voice that made her feel like her bones had turned to jelly. Jesse started to back up as she eyed the archangel warily, trying not to hyperventilate, and flinched when she backed into the side of a bookshelf. Crap.

Gabriel strode towards her, a dark expression on his face, and the woman felt her stomach take a nose-dive somewhere in the general direction of the floor.

Scratch that. Double crap.

The angel reached out and seized her by the front of her overshirt, dragging her close to his face even as he bared his teeth in an irritated sneer. For one second Jesse honestly believed that he would just snap his fingers, smite the crap out of her, and leave. The woman winced automatically at the thought and closed her eyes, preparing herself for the worst. She didn't want to die, not like this.

However, instead of hearing the damning snap, Jesse felt the grip on the front of her shirt slacken. Cautiously she cracked open one eye in time to see Gabriel release her, although he didn't back up as he stood there in front of her, a thoughtful look on his face. Okay, now she _knew_ she was knee-deep in shit. Gabriel actually thinking about something? Definitely one of the many signs of the End of Days. From what she had seen so far, he had the attention span of an unsupervised young child on a sugar high, except when you pissed him off. Then he had all the tenacity of a rabid bulldog.

Jesse swallowed reflexively when she realized that she had just offhandedly insulted an Archangel. Said angel chose that exact moment to grin almost smugly at her as he cocked an eyebrow curiously. The expression somewhat familiar: her dad had some similar facial expressions, but Gabriel lacked the familiar teasing glint in his eyes. She had never seen the 'piss me off and I will kill you' look in her dad's eyes, not even after the fender bender she'd had on her first day of college. Plus her dad's eyes were blue-green, not a weird, shifting green-gold that sent chills down her spine. Oh yeah, this guy definitely scared the living crap out of her.

"So," Gabriel chirped as he smirked at Jesse, his cheerful demeanor at odds with the dead serious look in his eyes after a long stretch of silence had passed between them. "Think we can discuss this like adults?"

She somehow managed to nod numbly in agreement, and he immediately flung himself back into his chair with a far-too-cheery smirk for her liking. Somehow, Jesse got the distinct feeling that she had just agreed to something that she really shouldn't have.

"So, first things first: who are you?"

The young woman scowled faintly at Gabriel's patronizing tone as she watched him retrieve his sugar-loaded coffee drink. As scared as she was, how the angel was treating her was only serving to piss her off.

"A bomb inspector. If you see me running, don't even bother trying to keep up," she snapped irritably. Instead of managing to offend the so-called Trickster like she had intended, he just started laughing in obvious amusement.

"You have spunk kid, I'll give you that," he chuckled. "I like you. You're… interesting."

Her immediate response was to go dead white, hardly daring to believe her ears as she gawked at Gabriel. So this was how Harry Dresden felt while dealing with Things With Which You Did Not Fuck. Slightly nauseous, with a good dash of mind-numbing panic thrown in just to spice things up a bit. Awesome to read about, but not so fun to experience in real life.

Jesse thought that she did an admirable job of hiding her unease as she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to glare at the angel stubbornly. Acting like a very unhappy toddler who'd just had his favorite toy taken away from him, he heaved a put-upon sigh as he stared at the young woman carefully.

"No fun at all," Gabriel sighed before his expression became serious once again. "I'm gonna ask you this again, kid. How did you know who I was?"

Ah, the question that she had been trying to avoid. In the words of… well, _someone_, when in doubt, run like hell. Somehow she managed to get over to the table and shove her laptop back into her backpack, not even bothering to put the cord in a separate compartment before she zipped it up.

"You know what? Screw you, that's how," Jesse snarled as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and got ready to leave the table, her expression hard. There was no way in hell that she was answering that question, not after everything that had happened earlier. If she had been thinking straight, then she would have cut and run the second she had seen the 'Trickster' seated across from her. "I don't owe you anything, so you can take your questions and kindly go fuck yourself."

For one second the angel looked stunned by her outburst, and then an odd look crossed Gabriel's face before he gave her a very smug, self-satisfied smile. As confident as she was that he wouldn't kill her in plain sight of an entire bookstore, Jesse still felt her stomach sink slightly at the sight of that smile.

Usually when he displayed that smile, it meant very, _very_ bad things for the poor sod it was directed at. Which, in this case, was her. Yippee.

"Just out of curiosity, did you check your bag once you left yesterday?" he asked almost innocently.

Brown eyes widened in fear before the woman quickly set her backpack down on the table and began to unzip it. A sharp whistle caught her attention, and she looked up at Gabriel, who smirked at her cheerfully before he held up something in his right hand.

When Jesse saw what was in his hand, she felt like she was going to be sick.

Gabriel held a copy of _Supernatural: the Official Companion Season 3_. To be more specific, her copy of the _Companion_, which had been in her backpack when she had first landed into this supremely messed-up nightmare. Pale-faced and shaking as she collapsed back into the chair that she had just vacated like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she stared in wordless horror at the archangel.

"Lose something?" he chirped, wiggling the book in the air meaningfully. Jesse just stared at him before she closed her eyes in a pained grimace and leaned back in her seat.

Yep, she was definitely gonna be sick.

"Oh God."

"Sorry, but I'm about as close as you're ever gonna get," Gabriel commented idly as he flipped through the book, making Jesse want nothing more than the ability to vanish at will. She sunk down in her chair, almost as though that would save her from further problems. Unfortunately, as if her situation wasn't already bad enough, Gabriel seemed to delight in her extreme discomfort as he read excerpts of it out loud.

"Full-color photos, my own section… very nice," he finally drawled easily before he cast in a sidelong glance in Jesse's direction and snapped the book shut. "Now, care to revise your story?"

* * *

Sorry for the delay guys, but I got an internship at an animation studio just last month, so all of my free time's been pretty much taken up. Its fun, and I love it dearly, but I also have to keep working at my other job, since said internship is non-paying. Add in school on top of that, and you get one very busy Hitokiri.

So far everyone seems to enjoy Jesse and how she reacts to everything, her general snappiness included. That's because she grew up in a household where sarcasm and snappy comebacks are a common staple. So a lot of her general attitude is from experience with her father and brother, as well as the fact that Gabriel does have the tendency to remind her of her male family members. So, all in all, positive feedback. As much as I appreciate that, I would also like people to point out any major character flaws that you might happen to notice. Feedback is fantastic, because it helps me make my work better. I honestly appreciate all reviews, but sometimes I do need something beyond one-word responses.

Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. Your support is fantastic. Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American readers, and may you still be sleeping off the turkey comas. Happy holidays to everyone else, and may you enjoy December to its fullest extent.

Oh, and if anyone reads any lines in any previous or future chapters and recognizes them, please remember that I read a lot and sometimes forget where they came from. If I don't have the proper credit given at the end of the chapter, please let me know so I can fix it.

Thank you Purplerhino, Echlophim, anon, HeeHeeHee01, cm1197, AuntMo, Time and Fate, Naruto-Lover6271, Maat, gabefan, stepbystep, Amber nickel, Sarah Jackson – The Other, Delphine Pryde, secondhandoftime, richardisawesome4life, emily, Luna del Cielo, Ash, and maggerat.


	5. Chapter 5: Meddle Not

_Take a breath  
Hold it in  
Start a fight  
You won't win  
Had enough  
Let's begin  
Nevermind  
I don't care _

_All in all_  
_You're no good_  
_You don't cry_  
_Like you should_  
_Let it go_  
_If you could_  
_When love dies in the end_

_So I'll find what lies beneath_  
_Your sick twisted smile_  
_As I lie underneath_  
_Your cold jaded eyes_  
_Now you turn the tide on me_  
_'Cause you're so unkind_  
_I will always be here_  
_For the rest of my life_

-"What Lies Beneath" by **Breaking Benjamin**

"Things never work out the way we think they should or the way they were planned. It's a constant – sort of like the laws of gravity. When the shit hits the fan, gravity will eventually pull it back down. Where it lands, now that's the interesting part." – Unknown

**Chapter Five:**

**Meddle Not…**

**Then:**

"_So, first things first: who are you?"_

_The young woman scowled faintly at Gabriel's patronizing tone as she watched him retrieve his sugar-loaded coffee drink. As scared as she was, how the angel was treating her was only serving to piss her off._

"_A bomb inspector. If you see me running, don't even bother trying to keep up," she snapped irritably. Instead of managing to offend the so-called Trickster like she had intended, he just started laughing in obvious amusement._

"_You have spunk kid, I'll give you that," he chuckled. "I like you. You're… interesting."_

_Her immediate response was to go dead white, hardly daring to believe her ears as she gawked at Gabriel. So this was how Harry Dresden felt while dealing with Things With Which You Did Not Fuck. Slightly nauseous, with a good dash of mind-numbing panic thrown in just to spice things up a bit. Awesome to read about, but not so fun to experience in real life._

_Jesse thought that she did an admirable job of hiding her unease as she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to glare at the angel stubbornly. Acting like a very unhappy toddler who'd just had his favorite toy taken away from him, he heaved a put-upon sigh as he stared at the young woman carefully._

"_No fun at all," Gabriel sighed before his expression became serious once again. "I'm gonna ask you this again, kid. How did you know who I was?"_

_Ah, the question that she had been trying to avoid. In the words of… well, _someone_, when in doubt, run like hell. Somehow she managed to get over to the table and shove her laptop back into her backpack, not even bothering to put the cord in a separate compartment before she zipped it up._

"_You know what? Screw you, that's how," Jesse snarled as she slung her backpack over her shoulder and got ready to leave the table, her expression hard. There was no way in hell that she was answering that question, not after everything that had happened earlier. If she had been thinking straight, then she would have cut and run the second she had seen the 'Trickster' seated across from her. "I don't owe you anything, so you can take your questions and kindly go fuck yourself."_

_For one second the angel looked stunned by her outburst, and then an odd look crossed Gabriel's face before he gave her a very smug, self-satisfied smile. As confident as she was that he wouldn't kill her in plain sight of an entire bookstore, Jesse still felt her stomach sink slightly at the sight of that smile._

_Usually when he displayed that smile, it meant very, very bad things for the poor sod it was directed at. Which, in this case, was her. Yippee._

"_Just out of curiosity, did you check your bag once you left yesterday?" he asked almost innocently._

_Brown eyes widened in fear before the woman quickly set her backpack down on the table and began to unzip it. A sharp whistle caught her attention, and she looked up at Gabriel, who smirked at her cheerfully before he held up something in his right hand._

_When Jesse saw what was in his hand, she felt like she was going to be sick._

_Gabriel held a copy of _Supernatural:the Official Companion Season 3_. To be more specific, her copy of the _Companion_, which had been in her backpack when she had first landed into this supremely messed-up nightmare. Pale-faced and shaking as she collapsed back into the chair that she had just vacated like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she stared in wordless horror at the archangel._

"_Lose something?" he chirped, wiggling the book in the air meaningfully. Jesse just stared at him before she closed her eyes in a pained grimace and leaned back in her seat._

_Yep, she was definitely gonna be sick._

"_Oh God."_

"_Sorry, but I'm about as close as you're ever gonna get," Gabriel commented idly as he flipped through the book, making Jesse want nothing more than the ability to vanish at will. She sunk down in her chair, almost as though that would save her from further problems. Unfortunately, as if her situation wasn't already bad enough, Gabriel seemed to delight in her extreme discomfort as he read excerpts of it out loud._

"_Full-color photos, my own section… very nice," he finally drawled easily before he cast in a sidelong glance in Jesse's direction and snapped the book shut. "Now, care to revise your story?"_

**Now:**

She knew the symbol. It loomed impressively in the back of her mind, taunting her with the knowledge of banishing the feathery pain in the ass seated in front of her back to the depths – figuratively – from whence he came. Besides, it was a sigil that any fan of the show probably knew by heart. Okay, maybe only if they had a freakishly good memory on the randomest things: it drove her mom nuts when she could remember random quotes from a book, but forgot to water the plants out on the back porch. All she needed to do was somehow manage to draw it on the underside of the table – without attracting attention – while using human blood.

Her blood, most likely, and while using nothing sharper than the plastic knife that she had been given with her bagel to obtain said blood.

Nope, wasn't gonna happen. She was screwed, good and proper.

With a resigned sigh, Jesse allowed herself to slump forward so her forehead was resting on the cool tile surface of the table, silently cursing the world in general. She hated her life right now, hated it with a bloody, almost unholy, passion.

"Hey, you still alive over there?"

Jesse barely managed to hold back the profane suggestion that came to mind as she slowly lifted her head and stared darkly at the source of her frustration.

"You're the angel, you figure it out," she all but snarled before she buried her face in her hands, doing her best not to show the false demigod just how uneasy she actually was. "Now just leave me alone."

Gabriel merely grinned in response before he gave a completely unapologetic shrug, obviously enjoying the fact that he was pissing her off to no end. "I will, once you tell me where and how you got this _wonderful_ little book."

He wiggled the _Companion_ in the air for emphasis, taunting Jesse with its very presence. The woman stared at him flatly as she lowered her hands, her brows knitted together slightly while an odd look crossed her face. Over twenty years experience of being an older sibling took hold, and she quickly reached out and snatched the book out of Gabriel's hand before she clutched it close to her chest, glaring defiantly at the archangel as she curled her fingers protectively around the slick cover.

"Don't touch my stuff," she all but snarled, gripping her book tightly. "And I got it from a bookstore. Kind of like this one. You know, a place that sells books, and sometimes even music. I hear that they're quite common in the United States and Europe, maybe even Asia."

Gabriel just looked stunned as he gaped at her for a single second before his expression turned into one of curiosity, although there was definitely a hint of irritation barely hidden in his eyes.

"How did you do that?"

"I have a little brother," Jesse retorted with a roll of her eyes, fighting back the strong urge to belt the older male upside the head for going through her backpack. "It comes with the territory."

This time the angel just looked annoyed by her sarcasm even as Jesse continued to stare defiantly at him, a stubborn set to her jaw as she silently willed herself not to lose her cool and bolt. It was kind of like playing chicken with a bullet train. She'd know that she was dead meat just long enough to flinch before bam, lights out.

"No, I meant how did you get the book," he snapped through gritted teeth. Jesse winced slightly as she realized that she was probably pushing her luck. Before she could even think to put a block on her mouth, three words unwillingly slipped from her lips, resulting in a heavy silence between her and the angry archangel.

"Ask the author."

The words, delivered in a frustrated, desperate tone, hung heavily in the air even as the young woman got ready to bolt. Gabriel drew in a slow breath as he stared intently at her, an odd look in his eyes, before he gave Jesse a thin, cold smile that accomplished nothing more than to scare the ever-loving shit out of her. She clenched her eyes shut and cringed, mentally bracing herself for the inevitable. Only… nothing happened.

Slowly, Jesse cautiously opened one eye, just in time to see the archangel give her a single considering glance, obviously thinking something over, before his lips quirked up into a smart-ass smirk.

"You know what?" he drawled. "I think I will." Gabriel paused for a moment before he gave her a knowing, somewhat cruel smirk and wiggled his eyebrows. "After all, if you're not telling the truth, I know where to find you."

And then he was gone. No snap of the fingers, no fluttering of enormous wings, just… gone.

Jesse sat there in numb horror for several long moments, her heart working on overtime as it tried to compensate for the unrestrained terror that had flooded her system before the archangel's disappearance. Once her brain finally got the memo that she was still alive and not a bloody heap, she cursed loudly before she allowed her forehead to connect with the tiled of the surface of the cafe table with a satisfying 'thud' and a sharp flare of pain. A single thought kept running through her mind, relentlessly eating away at her conscious with a kind of almost perverse speed.

She had just sent Gabriel after Chuck. She had just sicced a pissed-off archangel – one who had very effectively disguised himself as Loki and had just been ousted as the Messenger – after some poor, alcoholic, rum-soaked excuse of a prophet.

The woman groaned loudly as she fought the urge to start banging her head against the table again. She was going to Hell for this, she just knew it.

With a growled curse, she stood up and left the little table, forcing herself to keep her pace at a normal walk even though she wanted nothing more to run away as far as her legs could carry her before she collapsed somewhere, coughing and wheezing from a self-induced asthma attack as her muscles turned to jelly. Fear was indeed a powerful motivator, especially when you realized just how completely and utterly screwed you were, Jesse realized with a scowl. The young woman somehow managed to walk at a normal pace until she was out the door of the small bookshop and ways away down the street. It was only then that she allowed herself to break into a panicked, distance-eating run that led her back to the relative sanctuary of the bus station.

Just because Gabriel said that he could find her didn't mean that she couldn't run. If he wanted to find her and harm her, then he was going to have to work for it. And she was not going to make it easy for him by any means.

* * *

_She was standing in the warm, homey recesses of her kitchen in black-socked feet, the historic-looking hobnailed boots that she typically wore to work dangling idly from her left hand as she leaned against the wooden chair that her mother was seated in. It was summer, and the rough denim of her ankle-length work skirt stuck uncomfortably to the backs of her sweaty legs, although the air conditioning inside the house was slowly beginning to work its magic. The older female knew of her presence, and smiled almost wickedly as she pointed to something in the catalog that she was paging through, brown eyes that Jesse had inherited crinkling in almost wry amusement. _

"_Those are some seriously ugly shoes," she said dryly as she indicated to some very clunky and uncomfortable-looking platforms in the Victoria's Secret catalog that she had on the table. Jesse started nodding in agreement even as raised her eyebrows at the sight of said shoes._

"_Um yeah, ew. They look like the 70's puked them up," she stated confidently, and then grinned as her mom started laughing. "Well they do! They were barfed up from the 70's."_

"_I thought platform heels were dead and buried."_

"_Obviously not," Jesse muttered with a faint quirk of her lips as she peered over her mother's shoulder to further inspect the pictures. She immediately winced in sympathy at the sight of the no doubt painful footwear and shifted in her spot._

_Dude, give her Converse or hiking boots any day. She was a klutz in normal shoes: Lord only knew what would happen if she wore high heels._

"_And look at the rest of these boots," Marie Harper continued as she drummed her fingertips against the glossy page. "They're all calf-length, and the heels on them just look painful. They must be hotter than hell to wear, and a pain in the ass to put on. It is Victoria's Secret though, so we shouldn't be surprised." _

_A short bark of laughter escaped from Jesse's throat before she dissolved into helpless snickers._

"_Yeah, 'cause it's all about the hips, legs, and butt," she cracked as she flashed the almost fifty-year-old woman a cheeky smirk. Marie arched a delicate, dark brown eyebrow in response before she grinned impishly at her eldest child._

"_You forgot about the boobs. That's how they make the big bucks."_

_There was a short gap of silence as Jesse struggled to hold back her giggles, a hand clamped firmly over her mouth as she collapsed into a nearby chair. It was right about then that Travis Harper chose that exact moment to poke his head into the kitchen and smirk roguishly at the two females._

"_I like the boobies!" he chimed in as he wiggled his eyebrows in what was supposed to be an enticing manner as he glanced slyly in the direction of his wife. Jesse stared at her father for several moments before she started to laugh uncontrollably and covered her face with her hand. It took a while before her amusement finally began to fade, and it was only when she felt that she was no longer in danger of laughing her head off that she finally removed her hand from her face. She grinned at her mother almost sheepishly as she stood up._

"_Who else goes home from work and talks with their parents about this stuff?" she finally asked jokingly, her head cocked to the side slightly. Marie smiled knowingly as she shook her head in fond exasperation._

"_Only in this house."_

_The young woman grinned in response before she started to exit the kitchen. "And I wouldn't change it for the world." She paused in the kitchen doorway for a moment, thinking, before she turned back around and smiled brightly as she shrugged. "Hey, it's entertaining, that's for sure."_

Jesse jerked awake with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide as she glanced anxiously around the darkened interior of the Greyhound bus before she fell back into her seat with a sigh of relief. She was still on the bus, good. Well, as good as being on a cross-country bus somewhere in the ass-crack of the Midwest could ever possibly be. The woman groaned softly as she used the sleeve of her jacket to roughly wipe away the damp trails of the tears that had been streaming down her face while she slept.

God, she missed her family so much right now. Sure, she'd gone on swim team and church trips by herself when she'd been in high school, but at least then she knew the people that she was on the trip with. Right now she had nobody, and she felt the absence of her family with a keen pang of longing whenever she had to think about what lay in store for her. If her mom was here with her, she'd be able to get everything done that needed to be done in a neat, organized manner, all while telling Jesse in that gentle, no-nonsense tone of voice that she needed to keep her head screwed on straight and pay attention so she didn't get caught off-guard again.

Her mom, her dad, Andy, she wished so badly that at least one of them was there with her, if only to have someone who understood just how badly she was freaked out. She felt like a lost little kid right now, desperately wanting something familiar to latch onto.

Maybe that's why she'd been crying in her sleep. She missed her family so badly that even seeing them in a dream was a relief. The dream about her mother was an actual conversation that she'd had – such an ordinary, normal one – and had been about a month ago, one weekend after she come home from a very draining day of working at the local buffet. It was one of those few, rare moments where she and her mom could just sit there and talk without her having to hurry away to do something or another for the geologist survey team that she was working with.

And she didn't know if she'd ever have another chance at that again.

Thick chocking sobs wracked the woman's body as she curled in on herself, tears streaming from her eyes anew as she realized for the first time in her life that everything she had taken as something certain, permanent, had been wrenched away from her. She had nothing here, not even her family to fall back on. She couldn't contact her parents – her cell phone no longer worked, even though it had been fully charged at the start of this fiasco – and she didn't even know if she still had a family waiting for her in this supremely fucked-up version of reality. Her only hope, and even she knew that it was damned feeble one at that, was for her to get back to Arizona.

At least she would be on somewhat familiar territory there.

Jesse, sensing at that she was probably on the edge of a panic attack, bit down on the sleeve of her secondhand coat and forced herself to suck in deep, calming breaths. She needed to calm down, preferably before she gave herself an asthma attack by freaking out like this. She only had her inhaler on her, so if she made herself sick, sicker than what medication she had on her could handle, she was _screwed_. Plus, if she kept it up with the hysterics she would probably wake up someone in one of the seats close by.

It took a while, but eventually the woman was able to calm down enough to the point that she was no longer in danger of another emotional meltdown. With an utterly miserable sigh, Jesse shifted around in her window seat, trying to find a more comfortable spot in the reclining bus chair even as she huddled down in the too-big, navy and cream flannel-lined jacket she was now in possession of.

For one second, a traitorous voice in the back of her mind – one that sounded eerily like Gabriel – offered a comment that automatically made Jesse clench her jaw in irritated defiance: _I don't care anymore. I just want this to be over_.

With a low, angry growl, Jesse immediately punted said thought from her mind, and bent down so she could haul her backpack out from the space under the seat in front of her. She needed something to distract her, something that wouldn't wake up and annoy anyone else on the bus, so her laptop was out. That left just her Zen.

Jesse pulled the MP3 player out of the pocket where she had stashed it almost two days earlier, grinning wanly as she gently ran her fingers over the familiar, battered surface before she hooked her headphones over her ears and turned the music player on. Soon enough the familiar sounds of Breaking Benjamin started playing, and Jesse stuffed her Zen into the pocket of her jacket before she reclined easily in her seat. Breaking Benjamin was familiar, normal, and in no way connected to the massive shitstorm that she was currently in the middle of.

Slowly, the young woman's breathing evened out as she fell limp in her seat, drifting off into the kind of deep sleep that only visited the truly exhausted.

* * *

Jesse spent the next two days riding the bus, using the occasional pit stop as an opportunity to stretch her legs and get food. People got off and on at different stops, and she was questioned by more than one worried old person about why she was riding a Greyhound bus cross-country, alone. A half-truth about going to see her brother, who was in the Air Force and stationed out in Arizona, seemed to satisfy most people. If anyone tried to push her further, she usually broke out her headphones and ignored them while blaring the loudest rock or dance music she had.

Oh, she was going all kinds of stir-crazy, especially after being cooped up in a bus for the vast majority of the day for almost three days straight, but the thought of getting home kept her going. Home, where she was safe, where everything was familiar and normal – well, as normal as it ever got for her family – and where the monster under the bed wasn't real. Getting there, her final destination, trumped pretty much anything else, except for maybe divine intervention. And even then, if something from On High tried to stop her, they would find out the hard way that the Irish were known for more than just good alcohol and Waterford crystal.

After all, she was an American. They were known for going up to someone with a gun in one hand and a sandwich in the other and asking the poor offending sod which one they preferred. Mix that in with the traditional Gaelic stubbornness and quick wit, and you had a very dangerous cocktail on your hands.

Supernatural issues aside though, the trip had just been rough all around, and she was to the point where all she wanted was to be left alone. She honestly didn't give flying pig fart about whether any of the other passengers thought that she was being a sulky teenage brat – which she wasn't, but encouraging the dumb kid stereotype made her less noticeable, so she put up with it. As far as any of her fellow passengers knew, she was seventeen and her name was Allie. If someone was actually looking for Jesse Harper, then she wanted to make damn sure that they didn't find her. All she wanted to do, all she cared about now, was getting home in one piece.

Everything was going great, relatively, and then she got to New Mexico.

The bus came to a stop, its hydraulics creaking distinctively, and Jesse grabbed the strap of her backpack with one hand before she shouldered it with a weary sigh. She was in the home stretch now, with only one more state line to cross before she was almost home. The woman got up and headed off the bus amongst a crowd of other people, using the short walk to the steps as an opportunity to work out some of the kinks in her back and neck, long fingers massaging the stiff muscles in her neck as she walked.

"Hate this," she muttered under her breath as she stepped out into the dull winter sunshine, her breath turning white in the air in front of her even as she stepped to the side so she wouldn't get plowed over by some of the people behind her. For one moment the woman just stood there, a distant look in her eyes, before she shook her head and started walking again.

She didn't know where she was going – they had a little over an hour before they had to be back on the bus and ready to go – but she wanted to walk around a little bit before she went to get something to eat.

Jesse sighed as she headed over towards a small copse of stunted pine trees that was just a little off to the side of the small group of restaurants in the rest stop. Maybe she could get a little peace and quiet there, without having to deal with some old lady trying to mother her, or some retard who thought he was god's gift to women hitting on her. She was just… she was tired, and frustrated, and sick of having random strangers poking their noses into her business… she just wanted to go home, dammit! Was that really too hard to ask?

_Yes_, a sarcastic voice sneered from somewhere in the back of her mind, and she couldn't help the scowl that crossed her face in response. Fantastic, now even her subconscious was giving her lip.

An irritated snort escaped from the woman's throat as she reached up and dragged a hand through her hair, momentarily pulling her bangs out of her face before they fell back into place at only slightly odd angles. Okay, maybe she needed to just chill out a little. She'd ditched the Winchesters, and any of their angelic pursuers, several states back. They didn't know who she was, or where she lived. Nobody was going to come looking for her.

The sound of wings fluttering behind her caught Jesse's attention almost immediately, and she whirled around, her entire body tense… only to find that there was nothing there. For a few seconds she stared at the spot with wide eyes, feeling the odd, uneasy sensation of the skin along her upper arms, shoulders, and back literally crawling. Common sense, and whatever long-dead instincts that the human race still possessed, very firmly dictated that she start running like hell and not stop until she was well outside of smiting range.

Jesse swallowed nervously as she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, trying very hard not to contemplate who _was_ there. She knew that someone was watching her, could feel it in her very bones, but she didn't know _where_ they were.

If it was Gabriel, then she was already about fifty different kinds of screwed, with no hope for escape whatsoever. There was no way – or reason – Castiel would come looking for her, so he was out. Raphael was probably still trapped in a circle of holy fire, at least she _hoped_ he still was, so it probably wasn't him. Anna would have no interest in her, hopefully, and Michael probably didn't care about too much about anything other than getting a vessel. So that left Zachariah. And if it was him, then she was royally _fucked_. She did not want to be used as some kind of pawn by some douchebag with wings – not that she exactly knew anything worth him tracking her down for.

Sure, she knew _some_ of what was happening with the apocalypse, but not all of it. Jesse had only actually seen about four of the actual episodes, but she kind of knew what was supposed to happen outside of those episodes. She knew that Dean somehow got turned into an old man, knew that one of the Horsemen put an entire town under some kind of illusion so that they'd all kill each other, knew that Anna showed up again, only psycho, knew a bunch of things, but she didn't know when or how. The only episodes she'd actually seen was the one with the Antichrist kid, _Changing Channels_, the one with the creepy wraith chick, and a little less than half of _Swan Song_. Andy had changed the channel – she'd had class the night it had aired, and had set the VCR to record the episode – and she'd been so mad when she got halfway through the tape and it had switched over to some documentary on pilots during World War II. The DVD set for the 5th season had been released last week, but she hadn't gotten it yet, preferring to wait and see if maybe she got it as a birthday present.

But maybe, just maybe, that was a saving grace right now. Knowledge was power, but here, what she did and didn't know could land her in some seriously deep shit. And she, in a fit of temper, had blabbed damn near everything she knew about the entire 5th season of _Supernatural_ to an archangel, in front of the two main characters of said show.

If it wouldn't have made her look like a complete and total moron, Jesse would have smacked the palm of her hand against her forehead. She was a dumbass, she really was. There was yet another prime example of her losing her temper and running off her mouth without thinking when what she should have done was shut up.

Then again, maybe it wasn't one of the angels, Jesse hoped desperately; maybe she was being overly paranoid. Maybe she had just accidentally scared the crap out of a bunch of birds in the underbrush or something, making them all fly off. Granted, that was only possible if she ignored the glaringly obvious fact that she was still out on the definitely solid blacktop of the parking lot, with nary a bird in sight, and no underbrush whatsoever.

A chill ran through the woman once again, and this time she couldn't stop the shudder than ran through her body as she looked out at the empty parking lot, and the patch of scrubby forest behind it. Suddenly, the idea of being alone didn't seem all that appealing anymore. In fact, the more people that she was around, the better. There was less of a chance of someone… or some_thing_ snatching her or following her if she was with a group than if she was by herself. Going off alone suddenly seemed like a very stupid idea.

A masculine hand suddenly grasped her shoulder in an inhumanly firm grip from behind, and Jesse didn't even have time to turn around and see her attacker before she heard a familiar, gravelly voice.

"We need to talk."

Before she could protest, or even jerk away, everything just… _shifted_. The ground moved, her vision blurred, and her equilibrium became almost nonexistent as the sound of massive wings beating filled her ears.

The second the world stopped moving, Jesse roughly wrenched herself from Castiel's grasp and stumbled away from the angel, staring at him almost accusingly for a few seconds as she attempted to regain her equilibrium before she started swearing. The young woman swore loudly and fluently, using ever single profanity that she had ever heard or learned even while silently wishing that she had at least a basic grasp on Enochian. She was pretty sure that most of what she said went right over Castiel's head even as the air rang with a virtual tidal wave of verbal abuse.

Oh, she was pissed. She was pissed to the eyeballs. The last time she had been this mad, some dumb bastard at her high school had insulted her uncle after hearing that he had died. She had been so close to getting home, so _freaking_ close! And now _this_!

"I do not have intercourse with goats, nor sheep, nor my aged grandmother," the angel finally observed dryly once Jesse had run out of steam, and earned a murderous glare from the woman in question even as she drew herself up into a purely offended, straight-backed stance.

"You, you…" she stammered, so utterly besides herself with outrage that she was actually at a loss for words before she jabbed a finger into the blue-eyed angel's face. "You just _kidnapped_ me! You're lucky that accusing you of sexual deviation is _all_ that I'm doing right now! What I should do is drop-kick you in the family jewels!"

She knew that she probably looked like a complete and total moron, standing there and actually arguing with an honest-to-God angel while threatening to kick him in the balls, but she couldn't think straight just then. She was so pissed off that she couldn't even think of a way to express it accurately, not without launching into another swearing tangent.

Castiel gave her a confused little frown as he slowly tilted his head to the side. "I don't understand that reference."

Jesse just stared at the older man almost incredulously, hardly daring to believe her ears, before she facepalmed in response. Facepalmed with deep feeling. The oblivious act was cute on screen, but in real life it was just plain frustrating.

It was official: anyone who actually _wanted_ to be in this fucked-up excuse of a reality was either certifiable or off their freaking meds.

It had taken her a while – two days, to be honest – to honestly and truly accept that she was in the past, and in another reality to boot. Oh, she hadn't wanted to accept it, no way in hell had she actually _wanted_ to accept the fact that she might never get home, but she'd practically been forced to. It was kind of hard to ignore the fact that whenever she read whatever newspaper she'd managed to snag at the most recent rest stop it was almost a year out of date. Well that, and some of the things she read about felt like old news to her, things that had already been over and done with for a while instead of new and interesting.

Denial really was a beautiful thing though. As long as she kept deluding herself into thinking that all she had to do was get home and everything would be okay, she still had some slivers of hope left to cling to.

Once she no longer felt the overwhelming urge to start beating her head against the closest solid object and never stop, she removed her hand from her face and looked around her, silently hoping that she was somewhere that help could be obtained by screaming the eternally damning word of 'rape' at the top of her lungs. No such luck. Wherever she was, it looked like she was stuck out in the middle of nowhere, in a small grassy area under a thick copse of towering pine trees. Apparently Castiel hadn't wanted anyone to interrupt their little 'talk'.

Jesse somehow managed to repress the irritated growl that was her automatic response to the situation as she shoved her badly shaking hands into her pockets, although, to be bluntly honest, she was a bit more scared than she was annoyed. She had made the mistake of assuming that she was safe, that nobody would follow her. And, of course, as per to her usual luck, said assumption had quickly made a u-turn and bit her right on the ass.

Although, in her defense, she had only really planned for the event of a human tracking her down, which was what would have happened in _her_ reality. She had neglected to take into account the fact that angels could follow you anywhere if you didn't have specific Enochian sigils engraved into your very bones. Oh, and what do you know, they had just sold the last do-it-yourself kit at Wal-Mart right before she got there.

"What do you want?" she finally managed to ask – in a reasonably calm and non-shaky tone of voice. Castiel gave her an odd look before he took a step towards her, and the woman yelped as she quickly scrambled backwards, almost tripping over a fallen tree in the process before she managed to put a fairly thick pine tree between her and the angel.

Yeah, it was probably about as useless as tits on a boar, but at least it made her feel a little better to have a reasonably solid barrier there.

"Oh no, you're not getting anywhere _near_ me again, pal," Jesse insisted as she shook her head, keeping a wary eye on Castiel. "I've had more than enough of being jerked every which way by whichever dick with wings is closest. I am freaking done, do you hear me? _Done_. No more."

For one moment the little clearing went almost dead quiet before an odd look crossed Castiel's face – one that had Jesse seen it on any other person, she would have described as angry. On the angel though, it seemed like a twisted cross between frustration and constipation. However, it didn't take the woman very long to realize that she had once again stuffed her foot into her mouth before she started to back away.

"You know what I am." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement.

Oh, she was in _so_ much trouble now.

Jesse stared at the angel with wide eyes before she shook her head, a little noise of denial escaping from her throat before she spun around and tried to run for it. 'Tried' being the key word there. She barely even made it ten feet before she was gripped tightly by the collar of her jacket and roughly flung backwards, where she and a small pine tree had a very painful and unfortunate meeting. The poor little tree never even stood a chance as 110 pounds and 5'5 of an adult human female collided with it back first, effectively snapping its trunk before she hit the ground and skidded to a stop almost six full feet away from the initial point of impact.

Coughing and sputtering loudly, the woman looked up with eyes watering from pain just in time to see Castiel appear in front of her before he seized her by the front of her shirt – this one, a bright blue and white flannel button-up she had gotten from Wal-Mart the day before in an attempt to not look or feel as grungy – and pulled her up close until she was face to face with him. Intense blue eyes bored into her own brown ones, and Jesse swallowed nervously in response. She just stared wordlessly at Castiel for several long moments before the anger that she had been feeling previously came back, and her eyes narrowed into a defiant glare.

Okay, bullshitting. Bullshitting now was probably a very good idea. She really did not want to get the crap smote out of her by a cranky angel, even if he did look like a tax accountant. In some far-off little corner of her mind, she wondered if bending the truth when talking to an angel counted as lying. Knowing how her luck was going at the moment, it probably did.

Yep, fairly certain she was going to Hell.

"I'm not stupid," she finally growled through gritted teeth, dark eyebrows furrowing together angrily. "I saw how Gabriel reacted when you showed up, probably 'cause he knew you'd recognize him or something. The fact that he knew you before he made you disappear the second time only made me think I was right."

The angel gave her a piercing look in response, and Jesse automatically bared her teeth in an angry, wordless snarl. Oh, she'd had _enough_ of this shit!

"Look pal, I don't know what the hell your problem is, but at this point I don't give a flying fuck if you're here to press me for info or to inform me that today a Savior has been born in Bethlehem," she hissed, her entire body stiff from barely-repressed fury as she glared murderously at Castiel, who looked offended by her apparently uncaring comments. "The only thing I care about right now is getting home and forgetting that this entire cluster-fuck ever happened. Comprende? So let me go, now, before I kick your feathery ass."

Castiel didn't even look remotely perturbed by her threat – granted, it wasn't exactly one of her more violent ones – but a stern, detached expression that made her feel like she had just cussed in front of the Pope during an assembly at the Vatican was on his face. Oh, wait… she had pretty much done exactly that, only worse.

Fantastic.

"You knew my name," he said suddenly, and Jesse arched an eyebrow in momentary confusion before her mind was able to switch gears from 'royally pissed off' to 'cranky and a little unnerved'. Once she realized what the angel was actually asking, it took her a few seconds before she was able to come up with a believable explanation for her knowledge. Last time she checked, 'Oh, because you're one of my favorite characters in a TV show' was not on the list of widely-accepted answers.

"That's 'cause the short-haired cranky guy, Dean I think, said it," she stated with a shrug, managing to lace her response with a heavily sarcastic, unsaid 'duh'.

The angel stared at her intently for a few seconds before his eyebrows rose a fraction. On anyone else, it would have merely looked like they were curious, or even surprised. On Castiel, however… all it did was set off an alarm blaring in the back of Jesse's mind, shrieking 'Warning, Warning, Warning!' at the top of its little metaphorical lungs.

"He called me 'Cas'."

Jesse blinked as she gave the stoic angel an appropriately bewildered look, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion as a single sound escaped from her.

"Huh?"

Castiel's typical stoic expression changed into something that - for him – could only be described as a mixture of suspicion and anger.

"Dean only addressed me as Cas when he saw me," the angel informed her in his flat, gravelly voice, and Jesse felt the blood drain from her face as she realized that she had somehow completely screwed herself over without even realizing it.

Suddenly the world tilted on its ear again, and Jesse felt like she was going to be sick as her breath literally froze in her lungs and her vision grayed out. Powerful wingbeats echoed in her ears, and then they were no longer moving. The woman felt Castiel release her before she fell backwards and landed flat on her ass on what felt like carpet. Dean was right; traveling by Angel Air _sucked_. She wasn't exactly sure where she was now though, seeing as her vision was still doing a very good impression of the bad reception 'snow' on a TV screen and her equilibrium was all shot to hell. There was nothing wrong with her hearing though.

"You called me 'Castiel'."

_Before the man aiming the gun could react to her seemingly-odd statement, like shooting her in the chest or something equally unpleasant, Jesse reached out with one hand and grabbed the front of Castiel's trench coat. The angel's eyes widened slightly as he stared down at the smaller woman, who looked like she was either about commit homicide or do something incredibly stupid. For one second, an odd expression crossed her face before her lips quirked up into a humorless smirk._

"_Castiel, run," she said simply before she took off, somehow managing to drag the hapless angel a short distance along behind her._

There was a moment's pause, and in her mind Jesse could almost see the angel cant his head to the side as he stared at her intently with those eerie blue eyes. "And you do not feel… right."

She didn't feel right to him? What the hell did was that supposed to mean? Jesse gritted her teeth and shut her eyes before she shook her head in attempt to get rid of the aftereffect of being dragged somewhere against her will by a cryptic angel. Not that it actually worked. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, her stomach decided to threaten her with a very violent rebellion, which prompted the woman to curl inward just a completely different voice sputtered out a protest.

"Cas… what the _hell_?"

Jesse's eyes immediately snapped open as she recognized the voice as belonging to one Dean Winchester, and was promptly greeted with the sight of the interior of a grey-tinged motel room of highly questionable origins. Her heart sunk as she stared at the wall before glancing over at the hunter, who looked more than a little weirded out by the angel's sudden appearance.

Actually scratch that. He was probably more confused over the fact that Castiel had just dragged a strange girl into the room with him. Who, in about ten seconds, Dean was probably going to recognize as the selfsame girl who had been trapped with them in Gabriel's little daytime TV montage. And, consequently, as the same girl who had all but shrieked several very revealing things that no person in that universe – well, except for maybe Chuck, the angels, and demons – could possibly know of. Several very personal things, all of which would probably end with her being on the business of a shotgun loaded with rock salt, or if she was really unlucky, a gun with _real_ bullets.

Forget screwed. She was shit out of luck no matter how she looked at it.

Jesse stared at Dean for several seconds before all of the fight just seeped out of her. She wasn't super athletic or anything, even though she was pretty skinny, and she weighed maybe 110 pounds soaking wet. Dean had been trained from childhood by a Marine how to take down monsters and fight. He was bigger, stronger, older, and more experienced than she was. She was probably about as threatening to this man as a wet kitten, and she wasn't nearly as bad-ass as she usually tried to sound.

There was no way in hell that she could possibly make it to the door before he did, and she stood even less of a chance of actually getting _out_ of said door and escaping. Having reached that conclusion, the woman let out a defeated sigh as her shoulders sagged visibly.

"Fuck my life," Jesse groaned as she buried her head in her hands, completely missing the dawning light of recognition on Dean's face as he stared at her.

Somehow, she'd ended up right back where she'd started.

* * *

Happy New Years everyone, and I hope that everyone enjoyed their holidays. Now, before we get too far along, I do want to clarify something about Jesse.

She is _not_ a self-insert. Yes, Jesse's personality is based heavily off of mine (though what author doesn't do that?), and her family life off of my own family and one of my friend's families, but she is not me. Jesse is also a bit more confident and mature about certain things than I will probably ever be. Also, Jesse is not some kind of super-athletic chick or anything like that. She did swim team while she was in high school, but she never did it in college. She's been out of high school for _four_ years, so she's in good shape, but she is in no condition to run a ten-minute mile without collapsing at the end.

Another thing is that Jesse likes to think that she could kick someone's ass if need be. It's kind of a personal pride thing, something that's part of her normal little world. The truth of the matter is that she's about as physically intimidating as a wet kitten, especially since she looks like she should still be in high school. Jesse knows this, and is more than capable of recognizing when she'll be the one getting her ass kicked. She _knows_ that she's not nearly as tough and threatening as she likes to act, she just doesn't want to admit it. As for the cussing bit near the end, I did that deliberately. I tried to hold off as much on the profanity as much as possible on her part in order to emphasize just how tired and frustrated she is with this whole situation at this exact point in time, how she's starting to lose hope. She's scared, she's angry, and every time she thinks that she can work out something on her own she ends up getting into more trouble.

Okay, now that I've gotten past that, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, especially the special few who left some very memorable ones that made me just want to either die laughing or do the Snoopy dance because some of my favorite authors reviewed.

AvaWilson won the award for the funniest review for the last chapter with her reason why she liked Jesse: "_So far this is my favorite 'random girl winds up in Supernatural'. Mainly because she didn't start dry humping the nearest Winchester._" Sorry, but that will _never_ happen. Mainly because I don't even see the point to it, and because Jesse and I both have too much self-respect to pull something like that.

Sagira98, thanks for pointing out that I hadn't mentioned Jesse's mom as much as I probably should have. I hope that I've fixed that a bit, but obviously I need to keep it pretty consistent for all of her family members. What I'm trying to do is show that Jesse comes from a pretty tight-knit family and has always had the support of her immediate family behind her (although, like any family she had some nutters thrown in), which is why being alone now is so hard on her. Don't know if I'm doing a good job with that, but hey, I'm trying.

Maat, AuntMo, thank you both so very much for your wonderful reviews, and for the thoughtful criticism. I hope that you guys still enjoy the story just as much after this chapter, and here's to me hoping that I can keep everyone in character.

A great big thank you goes to: AuntMo, Time and Fate, gabe fan, GryffindorPrincess97, Frieda, Delphine Pryde, secondhandoftime, Maat, Sagira98, foxfire222, L Moonshade, x. ink splattered rainbow .x, AvaWilson, Arora-and-Amira, Ceville, and JinxedCobra for all of your reviews. Seriously guys… or girls, you really help me out with all of your comments, and when you point stuff out to me. I really appreciate it, and it helps me flesh out some of the storyline.

Thank you all so much, and see you next time.

P.S. - major brownie points to whoever gets the 'sandwich in one hand, gun in the other' line.


	6. Chapter 6: Can't Hold On

_Reckless and weary,  
The truth has been buried,  
Held down by the hand,  
That refuses to carry.  
The burden you built,  
The lies, do you hear me?  
The insult, the white flag,  
You refuse to carry.  
I'm letting you go,  
And all that you showed me.  
I'm letting you know,  
That you don't control me.  
The feeling is cold,  
And life is unfolding.  
Reckless and weary,  
I'm desperately holding on._

_So if you can't get a word in,_  
_Its because I don't care what you think,_  
_Don't be alone inside,_  
_A world that's filled with make-believe._

-"Erase My Scars" by Evans Blue

"When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on Earth." – Peter McWilliams

**Chapter Six:**

**Can't Hold On**

**Then:**

_There was a moment's pause, and in her mind Jesse could almost see the angel cant his head to the side as he stared at her intently with those eerie blue eyes. "And you do not feel… right."_

_She didn't feel right to him? What the hell did was that supposed to mean? Jesse gritted her teeth and shut her eyes before she shook her head in attempt to get rid of the aftereffect of being dragged somewhere against her will by a cryptic angel. Not that it actually worked. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, her stomach decided to threaten her with a very violent rebellion, which prompted the woman to curl inward just a completely different voice sputtered out a protest._

"_Cas… what the __**hell**__?"_

_Jesse's eyes immediately snapped open as she recognized the voice as belonging to one Dean Winchester, and was promptly greeted with the sight of the interior of a grey-tinged motel room of highly questionable origins. Her heart sunk as she stared at the wall before glancing over at the hunter, who looked more than a little weirded out by the angel's sudden appearance. _

_Actually scratch that. He was probably more confused over the fact that Castiel had just dragged a strange girl into the room with him. Who, in about ten seconds, Dean was probably going to recognize as the selfsame girl who had been trapped with them in Gabriel's little daytime TV montage. And, consequently, as the same girl who had all but shrieked several very revealing things that no person in that universe – well, except for maybe Chuck, the angels, and demons – could possibly know of. Several very personal things, all of which would probably end with her being on the business of a shotgun loaded with rock salt, or if she was really unlucky, a gun with __**real**__ bullets._

_Forget screwed. She was shit out of luck no matter how she looked at it._

_Jesse stared at Dean for several seconds before all of the fight just seeped out of her. She wasn't super athletic or anything, even though she was pretty skinny, and she weighed maybe 110 pounds soaking wet. Dean had been trained from childhood by a Marine how to take down monsters and fight. He was bigger, stronger, older, and more experienced than she was. She was probably about as threatening to this man as a wet kitten, and she wasn't nearly as bad-ass as she usually tried to sound._

_There was no way in hell that she could possibly make it to the door before he did, and she stood even less of a chance of actually getting out of said door and escaping. Having reached that conclusion, the woman let out a defeated sigh as her shoulders sagged visibly._

"_Fuck my life," Jesse groaned as she buried her head in her hands, completely missing the dawning light of recognition on Dean's face as he stared at her._

_Somehow, she'd ended up right back where she'd started._

**Now:**

"You." It was amazing how one person could make a simple three-letter word sound like the foulest of profanities. Jesse didn't even bother to look up at Dean as she removed her hands from her face and stared at the grimy carpet that she was still sitting on, her face completely blank as she didn't move, her mind already buzzing with a kind of numb acceptance. Oh, she already knew why Dean was pissed off. It didn't exactly take a rocket scientist to figure it out.

She knew things that she shouldn't. It didn't matter if she was human or a demon; either way, she was still a threat to Sam, and that was all Dean needed to know. Dean would protect his little brother, as was the Winchester Way. Not that she blamed him too much, of course. If she'd been in his place and someone was threatening Andy, there would be a definite case of 'shoot first, ask questions later' to deal with.

A large, work-roughened hand suddenly seized her by the front of her shirt, and within seconds Jesse was face-to-face with an incredibly pissed off hunter as he roughly jerked her to her feet.

"Who or what the hell are you?" he snarled as he shook the woman once just to get the message across that he wouldn't put up with any bullshit. Jesse's blank expression lasted for maybe all of three seconds before her eyes narrowed slightly in irritation. She was exhausted, but there was no way that she was going to let this guy just walk all over her. Her days of being a wimpy doormat were long since over and done with, and there was no way in _hell_ that she was going back to being some spineless shadow of a human who couldn't even look in the mirror without hating the person staring back at her.

"You already know my name, jackass," she snapped back irritably before she reached up and grabbed the older man's wrist, sinking the tips of her nails into Dean's hand and prompting a slight wince from the older man, although he didn't drop her like she had hoped he would. "Or do you just not care?"

"You-"

"Might be a demon, or a wraith, or some other God-awful, evil thing that's managed to dredge itself out from the asshole of the world," Jesse sneered as she cut the man off, long past the point of caring about what was going to happen to her. "However, I'm pretty sure that if I was any of those things, at least _one_ of the two angels that I've had the misfortune to meet this week would have smote the crap out of me without even blinking. Also-" she fumbled with something that lay under her t-shirt before she managed to pull out an intricate pewter Celtic cross that hung from a faded black cord around her neck and all but shoved in into Dean's face "how many demons would be that _fucking __**stupid**_ to wear something like this? Get dumped into a pool and you got instant holy water right there."

Jesse paused for a moment before she gave the man a wry, exhausted smile that was pretty much devoid of any actual humor. "No, I'm human." She then glanced over at where Castiel still stood and cocked an eyebrow challengingly. "Unless, of course, Flyboy over there feels like explaining his little comment about how I, and I quote, 'don't feel right'."

She received no response other than an intense stare from the angel, and the woman let out an annoyed snort as she rolled her eyes and chuckled humorlessly. "Of course. Sorry, I forgot that you guys were allergic to straight answers. And sarcasm."

Dean didn't seem to find the situation as 'amusing' as she did, and Jesse winced as the hunter shook her once again. It was at that moment that a random, idiotic thought flitted through her mind, one that was so truly amusing in such a twisted, morbid way that Jesse couldn't help it; she laughed. She laughed and she laughed, a single image hovering in her mind even as she received some truly disturbed looks from both the hunter and the angel. The woman was laughing so hard that she didn't even realize that Dean had let go of the front her shirt almost as though he had been burned, leaving her to fall to her knees while still in hysterics.

The mental visual that had set her off had been something from when she had been younger, a scene from a comic she had read at some point in time when she had been almost obsessed with anime. It had depicted some gun-wielding character about to be tackled by a rabid fangirl. The second panel had contained said character holding a smoking gun, with the cartoonish figure of the fangirl lying prone on the ground with a rather large bullet hole through the skull and her eyes crossed out. All Jesse could think about was how she was pretty much living that comic at that precise moment, only she wasn't a rabid fangirl.

Any second now, it was gonna be lights out for her, and she had no control over when and how it happened.

It took Dean a little bit to realize that the laughing wasn't amused, or even happy. As he stared at the younger woman, he noticed that tears were dripping down her face even as she laughed, and that there was a definite panicked, hysterical edge to the sound. Jesse was scared shitless, and she couldn't even really think straight as she sat there and laughed hysterically. All she could think about was how she needed to stay strong, to not give in, even though she was pretty much running blind now. And now, she was cornered. She was gonna die here, and there was nothing that she could do to change that.

Two fingers gently brushed up against her forehead, although the woman barely even felt it, much less paid any actual attention to the sensation, before her mind just shut down. Right in mid-breath, Jesse's eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and she collapsed onto the filthy motel floor in a boneless heap, completely dead to the world.

* * *

_She was standing on a beach of some kind, the waves rolling in and lapping at her ankles as she wiggled her bare feet reflexively in the wet sand. She was wearing a pair of comfortably battered khaki boy's cargo shorts that ended at the knee, and a loose-fitting gray t-shirt with black piping on the collar and end of the sleeves, with her Celtic cross dangling freely from her neck and in full view. Jesse looked around her cautiously for a moment, somewhat surprised to see that no one else was there on the beach with her. It was such a nice day out, especially with the breeze and everything. She shrugged. Oh well, their loss._

_Once the woman was satisfied that she was alone, she closed her eyes and tilted her face up towards the warm golden sun that was shining overhead, relishing the feeling of the cool sea breeze on her face and the sensation of the waves swirling around her ankles._

_For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she was alone and felt at peace._

_It almost felt like it was July again, and she was back in California with her family on vacation for probably the first time since she and Andy had started college. It was like the past three months had never occurred, that she was on summer vacation again, with no worries, no real responsibilities other than stay safe, and endless opportunities for fun and adventure ahead of her. The only difference was that she was all alone on the beach now, no dogs, no crowds, no family, nothing. In some ways it was relaxing, and in others it was actually a little disconcerting. Then again, there were no angels there either, which was a definite plus._

_Jesse allowed a smile of pure and utter relief to split her features as she visibly relaxed. There was no one here to harass her, throw her against various unyielding surfaces, demand answers that she really __**didn't**__ want to give, or anything else detrimental to her general physical well-being or mental health._

_The woman opened her eyes and blinked at the thought before she shook her head and grinned. Aw hell, who was she trying to kid? Her entire family was nuts, but it was the good kind of insanity. It was the kind that made you feel right at home, especially when it seemed like the rest of the world was about to fall on your head._

"_You are a very hard person to find, you know that, right?" a somewhat unfamiliar voice drawled from behind her, and Jesse yelped as she overbalanced when she tried to turn around, and promptly fell into the ocean with a loud splash. Sputtering and coughing, Jesse sat up and stared through a curtain of wet hair at the speaker, her long legs sprawled out awkwardly before her in the wet sand as she gaped slack-jawed at one of the people she had very desperately hoped to never see again._

_Gabriel gave her a knowing, smug grin as he stood just above the tide line, wearing the exact same outfit that she had seen him in last time, back when he had harassed her in the bookstore. Considering that they were on the beach, the jeans and tennis shoes made him look more than a little out of place, especially with the jacket he had on._

_If there had been anyone else there, there would have been more than a few odd looks, especially since they were on a beach in the middle of July…_

"_What- how…?" Jesse stammered before she shook her head and took a second look around her. Yeah, still quiet and peaceful, with no other trace of a living being other than the pain in the ass in front of her. "Dammit. That means this is a dream then." She sighed heavily as she reached up and pulled her dripping hair out of her face. "Is this San Diego or Virginia Beach?"_

_Gabriel pulled a face in response as he cocked an eyebrow, glancing from side to side easily before he returned his attention to her. "Does it really matter?"_

_The woman gave him a slightly annoyed, deadpan look before she rolled her eyes and got to her feet with a soft grunt, tucking her hands under her arms as she turned around to face the water's edge. The sun was starting to set over the water, which meant that she was on the west coast. San Diego it was then._

"_So, what do you want?" she asked as she started to walk down the stretch of firm sand that the waves left behind, ignoring the seawater dripping freely from her clothes as she walked. It was easier to be nonchalant about mouthing off to an archangel when she knew that she was dreaming. Not that Gabriel would have any qualms about kicking her ass seven different ways 'til Sunday if she annoyed him too much._

_The man in question suddenly appeared right besides her, keeping pace with apparently no effort whatsoever as he gave her one of his smug little grins._

"_Oh, nothing much," he drawled easily, cocked an eyebrow almost impishly when Jesse glanced over in his direction. "Just wanted you to know that I talked to the author of your little book series. Almost made him crap his pants in the process, but hey, I talked to him."_

_Jesse rolled her eyes and sighed as she shoved her hands into her pockets. _

"_With you, I'm just gonna take the word 'talk' and swap it out for either 'harassed' or 'threatened'," she commented wryly as she glanced over at her unwanted company, a slightly exasperated expression on her face. "You are a horrible person, scaring Chuck like that. He already has it bad enough as it is, what with-"_

_The woman immediately put on the brakes – both mental and physical – and clamped her mouth shut as her eyes widened in realization right before she saw the triumphant expression on Gabriel's face. Dammit, she'd slipped up big time on this one._

"_Aw __**shit**__," she groaned as she clapped a hand over her face and dragged it down, silently wishing for not the first time that she had a rewind/delete control for her life. She had foot in mouth disease, that was the only logical explanation. In her case though, it was probably going to prove fatal._

"_Gotcha," the archangel smirked. It was the kind of smirk that heralded the coming of all evil, the kind of deranged, psychotic grin that only the truly unhinged ever gave, usually right after they had somehow managed to re-animate some overly perverse hodgepodge mishmash of long-dead tissue belonging to various criminals. Mad scientists would have handed over a serious chunk of cash just to be in possession of that grin, much less witness an expert display of it. It was the smirk of doom, and it was aimed at her._

_If Jesse had ever been the kind of person to whimper in fear, that would have been the exact moment to do so._

_Instead, the woman just sighed wearily, although she did pull a pained grimace as she shifted uncomfortably in her spot._

"_Words cannot even __**begin**__ to describe how much I hate my life right now," she finally muttered as she averted her gaze and mentally braced herself for yet another barrage of questions and insults that she really didn't want to deal with. Even in the sanctity of her own mind she wasn't safe anymore!_

"_Oh, stop playing the victim, will ya?" Gabriel sneered as he cocked his head to the side and gave her a scornful look. "The only person you have to blame for this is yourself. If you'd just suck it up and give me a straight answer, then I'd leave you alone."_

_Jesse blanched at the harsh words before she just snapped._

"_Look you, I don't know or care why you want to know about me!" she all but snarled as she adopted a stiff-backed defensive stance, brown eyes narrowed warningly. "I am sick and tired of getting harassed, grabbed by the front of my shirt and jerked around, or thrown into shit all because of a bunch of self-centered jackasses who think that I'm personally obligated to answer every single one of their questions just because they say I should!" At this, she jabbed an accusatory finger in the angel's direction as she bared her teeth angrily. "I hate this place, I hate the cosmic pissing match that I somehow stumbled into, I hate this stupid, fucked-up shithole of a reality, and I really, __**really**__ hate you! And you wanna know what? I don't owe you jack shit, not any of you! Especially you in particular, after you pulled the Mystery Spot crap with me! So here's an answer for you, pal; go screw yourself!"_

_Panting slightly from all of the yelling she had done, Jesse glared angrily at the archangel though her wet bangs. Within seconds though, she quickly began to regret losing it the way she had. As good as it felt to vent, to just fling all of her anger, fear, and frustration at at least one of the people responsible for her emotional distress, it still probably wasn't the best thing for her to say, especially seeing as Gabriel had turned a very interesting shade of puce at her defiance. Okay, apparently she had a talent for pissing off angels. Yippee._

"_Why you insolent little-" he began, and Jesse made a soft noise of protest before something occurred to her, and she looked over at the archangel curiously._

"_This is a dream," she said in an oddly thoughtful tone. Gabriel didn't appear to be all that impressed with her realization as he gave her a scornful look._

"_Yeah, I thought we already covered this. You just don't catch on, do you?" he shot back. Jesse pointedly ignored him as she looked around her for a second time._

"_Which means that this is all in my head," the woman realized before she glanced over at Gabriel, who looked more than a little off-put by where this particular line of conversation was going. Probably because she currently wasn't falling to her knees and begging for forgiveness. Jesse began to calm down a little bit as something dawned upon her, and her lips began to twitch as she fought the urge to grin like a complete and total maniac. "And that means that I'm the one in control here."_

_The archangel frowned as he stared at her, irritation flickering across his face as he tried to take a step towards the woman, probably with the intention of physically shaking the answers out of her, only to find that he couldn't. A quick glance down at the ground showed that several tendrils of seaweed had wrapped themselves around his feet and anchored them down to the beach. When he looked back up at Jesse, he found that she was smirking darkly at him, a somewhat homicidal grin on her face._

"_I think turnabout's fair play, right Trickster?" she asked almost innocently, although there was a wolfish gleam in her eyes as she laced her fingers together behind her back and rocked back on her bare heels. "You go poking around in my head and you're gonna see some seriously dark and scary shit. So why don't you just _get **out**_."_

_Gabriel stared at Jesse for a few seconds, clearly shocked by the turn of events, before he shook his head in disbelief. "You wouldn't dare."_

_Jesse looked mildly thoughtful at his statement before her lips curved up into a truly wicked smile._

"_Let me think," she said in an almost falsely cheerful voice as she made a hand gesture eerily similar to the one Gabriel had made in the hospital when he had first started the 'game', parroting his own lines back to him in fairly good impersonation of the archangel. "Hmm… after being drowned by the Irish Mob and hit by a Dalek death ray, on top of all of the other shit you did to me…" she cocked her head to the side and smirked at the man. "Oh, you're damn right I dare. And you know what they say about paybacks; they're a bitch."_

_At this, she flicked her fingers dismissively at the archangel, and a massive wave reared up from almost out of nowhere and crashed down on top of Gabriel, effectively dragging him out into the dream-ocean. Granted, not nearly as painful or humiliating as she would have liked it to be, but she just didn't feel like emulating Wile E. Coyote just then. Besides, the sand probably would have softened the piano or anvil's impact just enough to make it non-fatal._

_Then again, this was a dream. The laws of physics didn't exactly apply here._

_Mocking Gabriel had been fun though. Especially once she had seen the look on his face when he realized what she was doing. Now __**that **__had been a Kodak moment. He was probably going to kill her the first chance he got now. But for now… she was free. Jesse watched the waves for a second before she started to laugh, the sound one of pure and utter relief._

_Real or not though, that had felt strangely therapeutic._

_Sometimes, she realized as she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts and chuckled, it was the little victories that counted. Well, that, and occasionally physical violence against some jackass who so desperately deserved it was a wonderful source of stress relief._

* * *

"- what I don't understand is why you felt that you had to knock her out."

"She was laughing in a disturbing manner for an extended period of time. I assume that most humans do not do that on a regular basis."

There was a heavy sigh, presumably from a sane presence in the room. Logic dictated that it was probably Sam. Unless, of course, he was hopped up on demon blood and in close contact with Ruby. Then any and all bets on sanity being present were out. Jesse unconsciously let out a low groan as she opened her eyes and was graced with the wonderful sensation of staring at a grody-colored motel ceiling.

Lovely, she didn't know that taupe could come in different shades of vomit.

Her staring contest with the ceiling was interrupted when a familiar pair of blue eyes under a thatch of dark brown hair obstructed her view of the God-awful paint job, and Jesse had to fight the urge to groan. Loudly. And repeatedly. Maybe even with a few situational-appropriate profanities thrown in, just for good measure.

"You again," she muttered wearily before she closed her eyes and sighed. "You gonna throw me into another tree? Or maybe this time you'll decide to spice things up and toss me into a wall instead, you know, just for variation?"

When she cracked her eyes open again, she was greeted with Castiel's 'confused puppy' face, which made her want to crack a smile even if she didn't really feel like it. It was so weird to see that face in real life, especially when she knew that it didn't belong to the actor responsible for Castiel's role.

It also scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

That cold shock of pure dread quickly got rid of any humor that Jesse may have felt over the situation, and she immediately sat up, a hiss of pain escaping from between clenched teeth as the multiple bruises that she had accumulated over the past several days – the original ones from Gabriel, which had only recently started to fade, and the new one from Castiel – all shrieked in bloody protest. Ouch, yeah, she probably had a whole mess of bruises on her back, not that she had really dared to look. Her vision blurred for a moment before she blinked and shook her head to clear it, planting her right hand on her forehead and lacing her fingers into her hair in an attempt to stabilize herself as the movement sent her head reeling. Low blood pressure… ah crap, she hadn't eaten yet. Yeah, that would do it.

Then again, she had just been knocked out via Angel Powers, so maybe that had something to do with it too.

Any further attempts to zone out were cut short when Dean grabbed her by the shoulder, resulting in a knee-jerk reaction of her immediately jerking away from the hunter as far as she could. Unfortunately that also meant that she crashed right into Castiel's legs, since he was standing stiffly on her other side – they had left her lying on the floor of the motel room, the jerks. No wonder her back hurt.

The angel didn't even move, and Jesse looked up at him from her very awkward position of being sprawled on his shoes and against his legs before she quickly scooted away and got to her feet, backing up until her back was flat against the wall. Better to be in a corner and not have to worry about who was at her back than to feel a little trapped. She did not want or need anyone to get the drop on her anymore than they already had by sneaking up behind her and grabbing her. It was only then that she noticed that her backpack was stuffed in between the little table and chair that was part of the motel room's kitchenette, and on the opposite end of the room from the door. Dammit, there went her half-assed plan of being able to make a run for it.

Instead, she tried to look a little less panicked as she gave a wry snort and stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets.

"Good thing I'm not in Scotland," she muttered dryly as she gave the three men in front of her a strained, sheepish grin. "'Cause then that would have been _really_ awkward."

Castiel gave her an odd look in response to her seemingly random comment. "Why?"

Jesse blinked in surprise even as she received questioning looks from the Winchesters. She hadn't expected for him to say anything about her smart-ass remark. Okay, now they had gone from physically manhandling her to just staring at her like she was some kind of freak. Great. She didn't know which one was worse.

"Umm…" she fumbled for an appropriate phrasing, her face heating up under the continued scrutiny. "You know… Scottish guys… they wear kilts… and sometimes there's…" At Castiel's increasingly more confused look, Jesse shook her head and averted her gaze slightly. "Never mind. I'm, ah… I'm just gonna shut up now."

Comprehension chose that precise moment to grace Dean Winchester with its presence, and the hunter smirked at her. It wasn't a nice smirk though. It was the kind that made Jesse want to holler for Andy or her dad and have them go all 'overprotective male family members' on the Winchesters. Or crawl in a hole and never come out. Either one sounded like a pretty good option at this point.

Fortunately for her, Sam took a step forward before he gave her one of those seemingly-heartfelt, gentle smiles that would have charmed most woman right out of their socks and turned them into idiotic piles of cooing mush. Jesse Harper was not one of those women though, and merely swallowed nervously in response before she looked down at the toes of her shoes uncertainly.

"Look, maybe we should all just sit down and try to discuss this calmly," the older man suggested patiently. Jesse twitched before she looked up at the three men.

"What, you're gonna play good cop, bad cop…" her gaze unconsciously slid over towards Castiel, and she felt another shudder of fear, "and scarier than shit cop now? Uh, no thank you. I think I'll skip that option, and go straight to the part where Flyboy drops me back off in New Mexico where he found me and I finish going home."

Dean cocked an eyebrow as he frowned at her. "No, you're gonna sit that pretty little ass of yours down and tell us who the hell you are and how in the hell you know about the apocalypse. Last time I checked, there weren't any hunters with the last name of Harper. And you know way too much to be a fan of the books."

"You don't know that," Jesse protested, her mind whirling and stomach churning at the thought of what the Winchesters would do if they found out she might have knowledge of future events. "C-Carver Edlund may have written more books!"

The withering look that she received in response could have killed an entire room. "No, we would have known if he had. Now spill."

"Well what if I don't want to?" she shot back, her patience already worn thin from dealing with Gabriel, and Castiel's little kidnapping stunt from earlier.

The hunter reached out and seized her by her arm before he physically dragged her up close to him, green eyes narrowed in an obvious warning sign even as he ignored his brother's faint protests.

"I think you will," he growled.

Something inside of Jesse just snapped, and she bared her teeth reflexively as she knocked the older male's hand away and glared daggers at Dean. Who the hell did this cocky son of a bitch think he was? The only people who _ever_ had any right to demand something… no, _anything_ from her was her family!

"No, you listen to me, chuckles! In the past five days I have been harassed and physically assaulted a multitude of times by not one, but two angels! I mean, I can't even be _unconscious_ without having to deal with one of you assholes!" she ranted, jabbing a finger accusingly in Castiel's direction, not noticing the minute widening of his eyes as something apparently occurred to him. "I spent the first twenty-two years of my life without even a _hint_ of divine intervention, and now suddenly I can't get rid of you guys! I have had _enough_! I mean, where the hell were you five years ago, or even seventeen, when I actually-!" Jesse forcibly cut herself off, nostrils flaring in anger even as she stared at Castiel, a tight, pained look in her eyes before she wrenched her gaze away. There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence as the woman tried to calm down, her hands trembling visibly from the effort.

Finally she looked up at them again, and cold, angry look in her eyes was enough to make even Dean flinch slightly as she straightened up and lifted her chin defiantly.

"The point is, I've learned by now that you bastards don't interfere worth shit unless you want something from someone," Jesse stated coldly, and then gave all three of the men a bitter, cynical smile as she spread her hands out, palms facing upwards, before she fixed her steely gaze on Castiel. "Hate to break it to you, but this mud monkey knows jack shit."

Almost immediately she knew that the self-depreciating slur had been the wrong thing to say as a set of blue eyes immediately narrowed, and Jesse suddenly found herself face-to-face with a highly intimidating angel of the Lord for the second time that day. Okay, she wouldn't lie; that little teleporting trick that all of the angels seemed to like using scared the shit out of her. It was not cool to have someone go from being ten feet away from you to two in the blink of an eye.

"Where did you hear that term?" Castiel demanded. He didn't raise his voice at all, but the tone very strongly indicated that she should cut the crap. Jesse swallowed nervously, but otherwise refused to allow herself to flinch as the angel literally towered over her.

Even though Cas's vessel was only a little bit taller than her dad – and her dad was only about 5'8 or 5'9 – something deep down in her knew that she was dealing with something so old, so completely and utterly beyond her level of comprehension that her brain would literally short out if she tried to understand it. Not to mention the fact that when she looked up at the angel, she felt like she was standing at the base of a skyscraper and craning her neck so she could spot where the top met the sky. She felt like she was eighteen again and visiting New York City for the first time, gawking at the skyline.

It made the back of her neck prickle uncomfortably just thinking about it.

"It doesn't matter." Jesse forcefully kept her tone and expression flat as she looked away. Before any of the three males in the room could do something – whatever it was, she knew that she probably wouldn't like it, especially since she could almost _feel_ the rising tension in the room – someone's phone rang.

Jesse immediately reached for the buttoned front pocket of her jacket where she had stashed her now-useless cell phone before she realized that first of all, it had a dead battery, so it couldn't ring worth a crap _anyways_, and second, it had been set to vibrate before the battery had croaked. Besides, she didn't have any fancy-schmancy ringtones for her phone, so that fact that some song was playing probably meant that it wasn't her phone. The woman flushed in embarrassment as she instead reached up and rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. Okay, hopefully no one had noticed that. She really didn't want her cell phone to be confiscated, even if it didn't work anymore.

What she didn't notice was the piercing look that Castiel gave her before he disappeared without saying anything.

The woman glanced over at the motel room door, and visibly deflated when she saw that Dean had 'casually' placed himself over by the exit, effectively preventing any escape attempts. Her attention was drawn back over to Sam when the older male quickly snapped his phone shut and looked over at his brother.

"That was Chuck," he stated with a worried shrug. "He just sent a text with a location and said that he needed us there, immediately. Life or death situation."

The two hunters exchanged looks, one that was part concern and part apprehension, with just a tab bit of annoyance thrown in.

Dark eyebrows rose before Sam glanced over at Jesse, who still stood with her back to the wall, watching the proceedings with wide eyes. Dean followed his brother's gaze to the woman, who blanched as soon as she felt the hunter's eyes on her. Okay, she knew that she probably wasn't going to die in a horrific manner right away, but she was still about twenty different kinds of screwed. Just because the Winchesters were too distracted to pump her for information now didn't mean that they would wait very long. The urgent text was only a temporary reprieve, and they all knew that.

The eldest Winchester frowned before he glanced meaningfully at his brother. "I guess she's coming with. Unless…" he turned around to where Castiel had been, and then swore. "Dammit! Would it kill him to at least tell us when he's leaving?"

Jesse didn't say anything to that, opting to do the smart thing for once and keep her mouth shut. She was already in deep shit as it was. There was no need for her to make things worse than they already were.

Even as she dithered uncertainly in her spot, the two men began to pack up their belongings, although Dean organized it so that Sam was placed firmly in between her and the door while he packed, and then switched places so he was guarding the only exit so his brother could get ready to leave. It took a little bit for Jesse to realize what they were doing, especially since they had orchestrated the whole thing without saying a single word. That in and of itself was just damn unnerving. No verbal communication meant that she had no warning if they decided to do something with her… like, oh say, maybe dangle her from a three-story building by her ankles or something equally unpleasant.

Then again, they were the Winchesters. They wouldn't do something like that to someone who wasn't an enemy… would they?

Jesse swallowed nervously as she realized just how deep into uncharted territory she was right then. The guarantee of personal safety had been all but thrown out the window. In all honesty, in spite of how well she knew these men from watching them on TV, she really didn't know them at all. She did not know everything that they had been through, didn't know how they would react to different stress factors.

She was pretty much flying blind here, and she found that the sensation of knowing pretty much _nothing_ was not one that she enjoyed.

When the two men finished packing, Sam was the one who grabbed the bags – except for her backpack, which Jesse was allowed to reclaim from its spot under the table – while Dean gripped her firmly by her left forearm and 'escorted' the younger woman out to the parking lot. Late afternoon sunshine blazed down on a small parking lot, and Jesse got her first look at the Impala. A small part of her wanted to grin like an idiot over the fact that she was actually seeing the _real_ Impala… a _very_ small part. The thought was very quickly squashed under the realization that this was the real world, the Winchesters were pissed off at her, and she was about to be forced into a strange vehicle that was headed towards an unknown destination, and she was going to be stuck in it with two men that she _really_ didn't know.

It was right about then that Jesse remembered some crack that Kripke, or at least one of the producers for the show, had made once on a gag reel that she and Carol had watched: the Impala could fit a body in its trunk, easy. She flinched automatically at the thought. For not the first time that day, or even that week, the woman closed her eyes and silently cursed the very existence Eric Kripke and his stupid show.

Okay, maybe Kripke shouldn't take all of the blame for her current situation, but to be honest, she didn't know who the hell else to blame. She sure as hell hadn't wished to end up in a TV show, gotten into a car accident, or anything else equally retarded that the stupid fangirls in the stories did before they woke up in their 'paradise'. All she had done was walked out a freaking door to her classroom, one that she had used a hundred times before without any problem, nothing special! Not to mention the fact that there had been other people with her at the time.

Now _there_ was a good question. If there had been a whole bunch of people right behind her when she had walked out the door, why hadn't they ended up here with her? For one moment Jesse felt like smacking herself upside the head at her own stupidity, but managed to repress the urge. Maybe if she had paid more attention to what had happened before and after she had ended up in the fake hospital, she could figure out how she had gotten into this stupid reality in the first place.

It was right about then that she realized she was over-analyzing things, and groaned softly. Dean glanced at the woman strangely, and Jesse just shrugged in response before she slid through the door that he had opened pointedly and into the back seat of the Impala and curled up in the corner behind the driver's seat, careful to keep her feet off of the black leather seat so she wouldn't get yelled at. She sat there in silence for several moments, listening to the brothers talk in quiet undertones outside as they loaded their bags into the trunk, before she let out a soft, choked noise that may or may not have been a sob.

Yeah, she was in _big_ trouble this time.

She spent the rest of the day sitting in the backseat of the Impala, watching the sun set through the window with a kind of detached interest. She didn't say anything, and the Winchesters didn't speak to her at all. If Jesse had been in any kind of mood to look at her situation with anything other than extreme unease, she probably would have laughed at the fact that the hunters were giving her the silent treatment. Talk about juvenile.

However, nothing about her situation struck her as funny, so she instead chose to pull out her MP3 player and headphones from her backpack and start up some of her own music. She scrolled through her album list, looking for something, before one name jumped out at her. _Outside Looking In: the Best of the Gin Blossoms_. Jesse cracked a weak smile at the little screen, completely unaware of the man watching her intently from the passenger seat, before she hit the 'Play' button. After everything she had been through today, she needed a little piece of home, of Arizona, to remind her that she wasn't completely alone.

When she listened to it, if she closed her eyes, she could pretend that she was in the passenger seat of the old pickup truck that her dad had driven when she had been a kid, listening to the radio. She could almost hear her father singing along with the band, wrapping the memory of easier times around herself like a security blanket.

Jesse slowly drifted off to the sounds of '_Hey Jealousy_', tears unconsciously collecting in the corners of her eyes as she slept with her head propped up against the window.

When she woke up later, it was pitch black outside, the car was no longer moving, and someone had just tossed something very warm and wrapped in crinkly paper into her lap. The woman jerked automatically as she attempted to groggily swipe the offending object out of her lap, her headphones dangling around her neck in an awkward manner as she accidentally slammed her bruised shoulder into the door. Jesse was immediately jerked back into alertness as she bit down on her lower lip with a groan of pain and straightened up in her seat.

Okay, that had hurt. A lot.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty," a familiar voice muttered sarcastically from the front seat, and Jesse looked up to see Dean staring at her intently from where he was slouched comfortably in the driver's seat. "There's a burger for you. Didn't think you've eaten yet."

The woman glanced down at the yellow-wrapped burger in her lap, and then up at the hunter, before her gaze slid over to where Sam had been earlier. The passenger seat was empty. Dean followed where her eyes went before he fixed her with a withering look.

"Bathroom break," he stated curtly. Jesse flinched slightly at his tone before she placed the burger she'd been given on top of her backpack and looked over at the fast food restaurant that they were parked in front of.

"Can I use the bathroom?" she asked quietly. Dean cocked an eyebrow in response, and she shrugged. "I gotta go. I promise I won't scream 'rape' or anything like that; I just need to go to the bathroom, that's all."

The hunter frowned, but he still opened the door and let Jesse out. She left her backpack in the back seat and pulled her jacket around her in an attempt to ward off the evening chill, shoving her hands deep into her pockets as Dean closed the door and escorted her to the building. Jesse kept her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her before they came to a stop in front of the restrooms.

True to her promise she didn't say a word as she slipped inside the women's restroom and headed straight for the stall at the very back of the room. As soon as she slid the bolt behind her, Jesse let out a frustrated, exhausted sigh as she sagged against the door and stared up at the ceiling tiles overhead. After a few seconds she proceeded to mouth several incredibly foul curses, slamming the back of her head against the door in pure frustration. Once she had finished, she sighed once again before she straightened up and rubbed the back of her neck.

She needed to figure out a way to get out of this. But first, she really did have to go.

Once Jesse had finished her business, she glanced up at the window set into the wall just by the toilet. It was just about the right size for someone who had the physique of a scrawny sixteen-year-old girl to slip through. The woman smirked faintly, although managed to refrain from uttering "Thank God" like she normally would have in the situation. No reason to draw more attention to herself than she already had.

With a grunt Jesse boosted herself up onto the sill with the use of the toilet, and flicked open the latch at the bottom of the sill before she propped open the window and experimentally poked her head out. Nothing.

Jesse pulled a face before she started to wiggle the rest of her body up onto the sill, the metal edge of the ledge digging into her palms as she managed to get most of her upper body out of the window. Her shoulders slid through without a problem, and she let out a faint sigh of relief over the fact. Just when she was about to see if she could maneuver enough so that she could get her legs out without falling flat on her face in the bushes underneath the window, someone very loudly cleared their throat. The woman looked up with wide eyes to see Sam standing not too far away from the building, an expectant look on his face as he waved at her.

Jesse swallowed nervously, gave the older man a forced grin, and slid back into the bathroom. She gripped the sill tightly until the rest of her body was back inside the room, and dropped the last several inches to the floor before she hissed out several curses.

She reluctantly trudged over to the sink, washed her hands, and exited the restroom, still wiping her damp hands against the legs of her jeans. Dean flashed her a knowing smirk as he levered himself away from the wall he had been leaning against. The man's smug expression told her that he knew exactly what she had tried to do.

All that accomplished was to well and truly piss her off, and it was all she could do not to punch the older male right in the middle of his smug, jerkish face. They had no right to just whisk her off somewhere because they thought she knew something! She didn't even want to be here!

"Go fuck yourself and die," Jesse snarled quietly as she stalked past him out towards the door before she started cycling through every single profanity that she could remember, starting in Japanese, and then shifting into Gaelic once she had started repeating herself. She knew that Dean probably didn't understand her, but she didn't care.

Tone of voice said everything, even if the person didn't know that you had just called them a castrated goat.

Sam was already in the passenger seat when they reached the car, and Jesse shot him a truly filthy look before she started on what French profanities and insults she knew as she slid into the backseat. It was a Latin-based language, so she figured that Sam would probably get the gist of things, being the language nerd he was. As soon as Dean had gotten situated in the driver's seat, he turned around to face her and grinned cockily.

"You finished yet, Houdini?" he cracked. If looks could kill, then he would have been very, very dead as Jesse glared furiously at him through her bangs. She then deliberately raised her right hand and extended her middle finger, lips pursed together in defiant silence.

Irritatingly enough, all this did was make him laugh before he turned started up the Impala and pulled out of the parking lot a hell of a lot faster than she was sure it was meant to.

* * *

It was sometime around ten o'clock the next morning when they pulled into the parking lot of some old-fashioned hotel. Jesse had spent most of the night sleeping after her escape attempt, waking only occasionally to see that at some point the brothers had switched places sometime during the night so that one could sleep while the other drove. Dean was the one in the driver's seat when they pulled into the parking lot, going hell-bent for leather. As soon as they were parked, both men immediately jumped out of the vehicle, although Dean paused just long enough to pop her door open and force the woman out.

"Not leaving you out here alone," he growled irritably as he hustled her along. There was one moment when he hesitated for a second when he spotted the majority of the parking lot filled with several very similar-looking black cars, but Sam quickly snapped him out of it.

Even though Jesse wanted to stop and get a closer look at the cars – something about them all just kind of didn't seem right to her – she didn't get the chance as the older hunter pulled her along after him. When she saw who was standing at the base of the steps to the old hotel however, the woman immediately put of the brakes, somehow managing to wrench her arms out of Dean's grasp even as the man continued without her. It was Chuck. The prophet, Chuck.

It was official; she was now on a whole new level of screwed.

Jesse could have sworn that the entire world froze around her as she watched the brothers talk to the author/prophet, eyes wide in a combination of stunned horror and disbelief. She was dead, so very, very dead. He knew about her, he had to. He knew about her, and he was gonna tell the Winchesters, and they were gonna kick her-

A shrill scream snapped Jesse out of her fear-induced state, and she looked up in time to see a rather plainly-dressed woman, maybe a little older than her, appear at the top of the steps to the old converted mansion.

"Sam, Dean, you made it!" she shrilled as she raced down the stone steps. She paused in front of Sam, and then looked over at Jesse. "Who is she?"

There was an awkward pause as the Winchesters and Chuck all looked over at her, the former apparently having forgotten that they had an unwilling tagalong. Jesse cocked an eyebrow, glanced over at the brothers, and gave them a bitter smile.

"A kidnap victim," she stated flatly as she crossed her arms over her chest, giving the two hunters in question a supremely dirty look. At the other woman's incredulous look, she smiled grimly. "And no, I'm not kidding. Wish I was, but…ah, I'm not."

Dean shot her a dirty look in response even as the prophet and the strange woman both stared at her. The woman – Jesse dimly heard Sam address her as Becky – frowned, almost as though she was offended by the mere concept of someone insinuating that the boys had done something like that. It took a few seconds for her to recognize the glint in Becky's eyes for what it was – fanaticism.

Oh dear Lord in Heaven, she was dealing with a rabid fangirl.

It was hard to mistake that kind of look, especially when she had known people who were so obsessed with an anime or video game character back in high school that it had been all that they had ever talked about. Jesse winced, fighting the urge to either bolt or say something stupid, or maybe even do both. As much as she loved annoying some of the juvenile idiots (the Twilight fangirls in the theater had absolutely _loathed_ her when she had gone and seen _Eclipse_ with Carol and her sisters that summer, and had crowed – amidst all of the cries of "Team Edward" and "Team Jacob" – "Team Free Will!", and then sat there with a smug smirk plastered firmly on her face when the few who actually understood the reference started to object), she would be the first to admit that she was a bit out of her depth here.

Fortunately, before things could get too hairy, another man showed up on the porch and got Chuck's attention. Before Jesse could use that opportunity to escape, Dean reached out and grasped her firmly by the arm and all but dragged the younger woman after him.

"Sorry, but you're not leaving," he whispered harshly, and Jesse glowered at him in return.

"Wanna make a bet on that one?" she hissed as they stepped through the front door. "All I need to do is say one word, one four-letter word, and your ass is grass, you arrogant-"

Whatever the young woman had been about to say died miserably in her throat as a particularly large man with a goatee – dressed exactly as Dean – sauntered up to the hunter with a wide grin on his face.

"Hey Dean, lookin' good," he drawled as the two stared at him. Jesse's eyes went almost impossibly large as her gaze darted from the medallion around the goateed man's neck, and then over to the elder Winchester, before she put two and two together. Unfortunately, the answer was one that immediately made the young woman want to locate the closest brick wall and beat her head against it until she went mercifully unconscious.

"Who the hell are you?" the hunter demanded gruffly. The other guy looked at him like he was crazy.

"I'm Dean too," he said with a slightly condescending tone. "Duh."

Jesse paid no attention to either Sam or Dean's reactions as she gaped wide-eyed at the interior of the hotel. More importantly, she gaped at the people milling about in the hotel lobby, the vast majority of them dressed in disturbingly familiar costumes, as well as the various booths that lined the walls. Posters with catchphrases like "Got salt?" and "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole" were plastered up behind the booths, and Jesse flinched on instinct when one of the vendors turned around and she saw his yellow eyes. Not too far away, there was another guy with black eyes.

She really, _really_ hoped that they were colored contact lenses, otherwise there was gonna be a whole 'nother set of problems.

Like, oh, maybe her running out the doors and screaming her lungs off, Winchesters be _damned_. Next to Lucifer – who she fully intended on avoiding like the plague, thank you _very_ much – Azazel was probably the character who had scared the ever-loving shit out of her the most. Alistair came in at a close third, with Zachariah following shortly behind. Yeah, archangels were scary, but not nearly as much as Satan.

"Becky… what is this?" Sam finally asked, and Jesse turned around just in time to see the older woman smile broadly as she literally bounced up behind the brothers.

"It's _awesome_!" she chirped excitedly as she quirked her head to the side in a nauseatingly cute gesture, sounding far too perky for the situation. "The first _Supernatural_ convention ever!"

Jesse proceeded to stare at the other female in complete and utter horror before she groaned loudly and buried her head in her hands, ignoring the odd looks that she received in response from the others around her. Fantastic. She almost wished that she was trapped in a hotel full of demons instead of rabid fans. The demons could at least be exorcized.

"Oh dear God," she muttered, trying not lose it right then and there. "I am in hell. I am. In. _Hell_."

* * *

So… care to place any bets on how long it takes before Jesse cracks under pressure? Personally, I think that the only reason _I'd_ be able to hold on that long is out of sheer stubbornness.

Which is exactly what Jesse is doing. She hates how she's being treated, she hates how helpless she feels at the moment, and as a result she absolutely refuses to give the Winchesters _anything_ to work with. A couple of you guys were all asking me last chapter 'Why did Cas throw her into a tree?'. Well, look at it this way: a human who feels not right to you just appears out of nowhere, during a truly spectacular mind-fuck done by your all-too-bored older brother, has somewhat personal knowledge about not only the Winchesters, but some angels as well, and is running hell-bent for leather after the whole fiasco is over. Doesn't that seem just a mite bit suspicious?

For anyone curious enough to know, the incident at _Eclipse_ actually took place. I am not a fan of the Twilight series. I have read all four of the books, (to be more specific, I _own_ all four of them, courtesy of Christmas and birthday gifts) and I think that they are all a giant steaming pile of crap. Anyways, my best friend had to take her two little sisters to the midnight showing, and she asked me to go along for emotional support, since she is also not a fan but has read the books. Well, while we're waiting in the theater about half-an-hour before the movie starts, all of these girls start shrieking "Team Edward" and "Team Jacob" at the top of their lungs, each of them trying to out-shout the other. So, after about five minutes of this, I bellow "Team Free Will" as loud as I can.

Dead silence.

Then, after a second of them probably all going "What the hell?", the girls all start up again. I wait for a bit before I shout out "Team Winchester", followed shortly by "Team Castiel". My friend, who knows exactly what I'm talking about, gives me this look of 'are you _insane_', and surprisingly enough the guy behind me starts laughing. He happened to like _Supernatural_, and encouraged his friends – who were there with their girlfriends – to join me in my quest in mocking the Twitards. Honestly, I'm surprised that I didn't get jumped by a couple of angry rabid fangirls for pulling that. It was fun though.

As to the 'sandwich in one hand, gun in the other' line that was used last chapter, that's from Jim Butcher's _Turncoat_, a novel in the Dresden Files. Brilliant series. If you guys like my stuff and _Supernatural_, then you should definitely read the Dresden Files, 'cause it has the same warped sense of humor and one-liners that we all know and love. First book's called _Storm Front_, if you're curious.

Oh, and major announcement people. The fantastic and talented Ceville has offered to do fanart and comic pages for _Problem Girl_. Give her a hand people, 'cause she's awesome! I'll post the links on my profile once she's done with them.

Thank you to everyone for all of the marvelous reviews.

JinxedCobra: Technically, Jesse isn't lying. She's either refusing outright to tell them _anything_, or she's delivering what she does know as from the standpoint of reading the books. She's omitting certain parts of what she knows, and how she knows it. Unfortunately for her, it's one of those theories that sounds great when it's in your head, but doesn't work out too well in real life.

AuntMo: Did you see the beginnings of a complete and total psychological meltdown here? And I agree, there is definitely some serious cause for concern when it comes to Jesse and how she's dealing with things. It is going to blow up in her face, there's no doubt about that, only it's not going to be how she would ever imagine it.

Many thanks to Ceville, maggerat, AuntMo, Time and Fate, PerfectlyImperfect-EmMandC, gabe fan, JinxedCobra, AvaWilson, Ms IV., .angel.14, and Smiling Loki for all of your reviews. See you all next time.


	7. Chapter 7: Risk Taker

_Whether a he or a she, put your mouth where your money is,_  
_Are the birds of a feather that clever,_  
_If I knew I'd keep locks; that's a given,_  
_Just wait till then,_  
_Their heads cast shadows like skyscrapers,_  
_Still small enough to fit up their asses,_  
_To put it all into perspective with definition,_

_We marys had ourselves a ball,_  
_Oh, yes we did,_  
_We marys had ourselves a ball,_  
_I must admit,_

_Hang us those limbs, hold no virtue,_  
_Those told to hold: Project on my cue,_

_Oh, take a gander the bigger they are the harder they fall_

_-"Dance of the Manatee" by _**Fair to Midland**

"I take risks, sometimes patients die. But not taking risks causes more patients to die, so I guess my biggest problem is I've been cursed with the ability to do the math." – Gregory House, _House M.D._

**Chapter Seven:**

**Risk-Taker**

**Then:**

_Fortunately, before things could get too hairy, another man showed up on the porch and got Chuck's attention. Before Jesse could use that opportunity to escape, Dean reached out and grasped her firmly by the arm and all but dragged the younger woman after him._

"_Sorry, but you're not leaving," he whispered harshly, and Jesse glowered at him in return._

"_Wanna make a bet on that one?" she hissed as they stepped through the front door. "All I need to do is say one word, one four-letter word, and your ass is grass, you arrogant-"_

_Whatever the young woman had been about to say died miserably in her throat as a particularly large man with a goatee – dressed exactly as Dean – sauntered up to the hunter with a wide grin on his face._

"_Hey Dean, lookin' good," he drawled as the two stared at him. Jesse's eyes went almost impossibly large as her gaze darted from the medallion around the goateed man's neck, and then over to the elder Winchester, before she put two and two together. Unfortunately, the answer was one that immediately made the young woman want to locate the closest brick wall and beat her head against it until she went mercifully unconscious._

"_Who the hell are you?" the hunter demanded gruffly. The other guy looked at him like he was crazy._

"_I'm Dean too," he said with a slightly condescending tone. "Duh."_

_Jesse paid no attention to either Sam or Dean's reactions as she gaped wide-eyed at the interior of the hotel. More importantly, she gaped at the people milling about in the hotel lobby, the vast majority of them dressed in disturbingly familiar costumes, as well as the various booths that lined the walls. Posters with catchphrases like "Got salt?" and "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole" were plastered up behind the booths, and Jesse flinched on instinct when one of the vendors turned around and she saw his yellow eyes. Not too far away, there was another guy with black eyes._

_She really, __**really**__ hoped that they were colored contact lenses, otherwise there was gonna be a whole 'nother set of problems._

_Like, oh, maybe her running out the doors and screaming her lungs off, Winchesters be __**damned**__. Next to Lucifer – who she fully intended on avoiding like the plague, thank you very much – Azazel was probably the character who had scared the ever-loving shit out of her the most. Alistair came in at a close third, with Zachariah following shortly behind. Yeah, archangels were scary, but not nearly as much as Satan._

"_Becky… what is this?" Sam finally asked, and Jesse turned around just in time to see the older woman smile broadly as she literally bounced up behind the brothers._

"_It's __**awesome**__!" she chirped excitedly as she quirked her head to the side in a nauseatingly cute gesture, sounding far too perky for the situation. "The first _Supernatural_ convention __**ever**__!" _

_Jesse proceeded to stare at the other female in complete and utter horror before she groaned loudly and buried her head in her hands, ignoring the odd looks that she received in response from the others around her. Fantastic. She almost wished that she was trapped in a hotel full of demons instead of rabid fans. The demons could at least be exorcized._

"_Oh dear God," she muttered, trying not lose it right then and there. "I am in hell. I am. In. __**Hell**__."_

**Now:**

The discussion panel had been physically painful to sit through. There had been nowhere to sit – every single seat in the little auditorium area had been filled – so she had been forced to stand next to the Winchesters in the back of the room that had been leased out to the fans for the convention. Add in the questions that she had to listen to, and it had taken pretty much everything she had not to squirm in blatant discomfort, especially with some of the more disturbing comments/observations about the Winchesters. The worst part about that was whenever someone asked a particularly groan-worthy question, Dean would look over and glare darkly at her, like she was somehow responsible for this entire fiasco.

Well, either that, or she had somehow managed to key the Impala without being noticed in the span of time she had been in the vehicle – all while under constant supervision.

After the first five times of receiving the Winchester glare of Doom, Jesse had just found it easier to keep her gaze fixed on Chuck as he talked. At least he wasn't giving her the mother of all stink-eyes for no reason. Well, the fact that she had scooted over closer to Sam, who while not being particularly fond of her didn't outright hate her either, had probably helped a little too. Still, she was not happy about being stuck in this stupid convention with a bunch of psycho fans.

Bad memories. Just bad memories right there.

Once, back when Jesse had still been in high school, she had gone to an anime convention with a friend. When she had finally gotten home that night, after spending an entire day being either hugged randomly for no reason without any warning or attacked by some psycho who had a deep-seated grudge against the character she had dressed as, she had very vehemently told her parents that she would never attend another convention again. It seemed like the universe wanted to remind her of just exactly _why_ she hated conventions and rabid fans, especially when the two were put together in any combination.

Either that, or some cosmic force really enjoyed messing with her.

The woman sighed as she reached up and began to massage the bridge of her nose. It was early evening now – she had made it through the panels with her sanity mostly intact, thank God – and she had broken off from the Winchesters after being forced to sit through an entire series of very awkward panels with them. It had been a very near thing with the last one though - 'Homo-erotic Subtext'. Dear Lord in heaven, she had wanted to beat her head against the closest wall until she went mercifully unconscious during that one just to escape the vomit-inducing conversations, especially when she had seen Becky lick her palm in a supposedly-suggestive manner and then blow a kiss at Sam. That right there alone had been enough to make her want to gag.

Actually, she had made a soft gagging noise while she stuck her finger towards her mouth and mimed throwing up. When Sam had seen her doing this – and realized that she had noticed Becky's very creepy actions – he'd actually chuckled softly. Unfortunately, he had quickly sobered up when he apparently remembered that she was some kind of psychotic unknown, and therefore not to be trusted, much less goof off with.

Jesse had spent the rest of the panel in silence as she swallowed back the hurt feeling that had welled up at the older male's reaction. Suddenly she really couldn't wait until the convention was over. She was fairly certain that the only reason they had stuck around this long was because Sam and Dean probably wanted to corner Chuck about the revival of the _Supernatural_ book series.

Judging from the expressions on the brothers' faces when they had disappeared, it was not going to be a pleasant conversation.

Part of her felt bad for the prophet, but she for the most part she really didn't care. It meant that she was off the hook for a little bit. Jesse sighed wearily as she looked down at the can of Pepsi that she had just bought from the bartender with some spare change in her pocket – they didn't have Mountain Dew, otherwise she would have gotten that instead – and popped the tab. How was she going to get out of this? She only had a little bit of money left, and even if she did manage to escape from the Winchesters now, she would still have to buy another bus ticket from Ohio to Arizona. That was assuming that Cas would let her get all the way to New Mexico this time instead of just snatching her up the second she got too far away from the Winchesters.

Honestly, what she really wanted was to be able to stop running, but that wasn't going to happen until she got home. And right now that was starting to look like it was a fool's errand.

She stared stonily at the scarred wooden countertop of the hotel bar, not really enjoying where her thoughts were taking her even as she nursed the can of Pepsi. Unless this was yet another sign of the Fates well and truly hating her guts, she was probably about fifty different kinds of screwed here. She was stuck in a hotel that was hosting a convention for the _Supernatural_ book series with a bunch of idiotic fans running around, as well as on a short leash with the Winchesters, and if she tried to bolt Cas would just find her and drag her back. Jesse let out a low, wordless growl of sheer frustration as she laced her fingers together and held her interlaced hands against her forehead.

She wanted _out_ of this crap, nothing more. And why had this happened to her? What the hell was so special about her that some perverse cosmic force would just decide to dump her into the _Supernatural_ reality? She was nothing more than a junior-year art major, she had 3.0 GPA – barely, but there was no way in hell that she was going to tell her mom that – and she was a tomboyish sci-fi nerd who liked reading _Dresden Files_ and watching _Doctor Who_. Nothing special there. So why was she here instead of one of the psycho fangirls who actually _wanted_ to be in the show?

Jesse sighed wearily as she closed her eyes for a moment. Talk about questions that made your brain hurt.

The distinct sounds of someone taking a seat in the empty bar stool next to her snapped her out of her trance and elicited an actual snarl from the woman as she didn't even bother to remove her hands from her face. She'd had to deal with more than her share of idiots in faux leather jackets thinking they were God's gift to women – well, _pretending_ that they were God's gift to women, 'cause she was pretty sure that at least half of them weren't honestly interested in girls – trying to flirt with her all day, and she was sick of it.

"Hit on me and _die_," she growled warningly, her entire body stiff with the 'fuck off and die' vibe that she was intentionally giving off in an attempt to reduce the number of morons approaching her. "No, I do not want another drink, no, I do not give a rat's ass about the 'hunt', and if you touch me I will rip off the offending body part and beat you to death with it."

A startled 'eep' was the response to her threat, followed after several seconds of awkward silence by a nervous chuckle. "Uhhh… so, um… ah, you must be Jesse."

She froze, eyes narrowing slightly before she looked over at the speaker, and found herself face-to-face with a justifiably nervous Chuck. They just stared at each other for a few moments; Jesse with the kind of fatigued, irritated resignation typically reserved for the designated driver after they see just how drunk their so-called 'friends' really are, and Chuck with an odd kind of pity that had equal parts terror and disbelief thrown in. Finally, Jesse broke off the impromptu staring contest with a weary sigh as she returned her attention to her can of Pepsi.

Might as well take her lumps now and get it over with.

"And you must be the great prophet Chuck," she retorted dryly before she brought the cool aluminum can up to her lips and took a long swig, sounding harsher than she had originally intended. "Forgive me if I don't fall to my knees in awe right now. I'm not exactly feeling all that charitable towards the good Lord at the moment."

A startled "Umm…" was her only reply, and the woman decided that ignoring the man was probably her best bet for the time being. If he had something that he really wanted to say to her, then he'd stick around and say it. Not even five minutes later, Chuck finally got up the courage, or whatever, to speak to her.

"You sent Gabriel after me." There was a definite hint of a whine behind the accusation.

Jesse glanced over at the man, who looked more than a little stressed out with the entire situation in general, before she gave a harsh, barking laugh that contained absolutely no amusement whatsoever.

Out of all the things he could have said to her, he had to pick that one. It was kind of funny, in a really sad, warped way.

"I didn't mean to," she finally admitted with a pained, rueful smile before she took another drink of Pepsi. "I know how lame that sounds, but I am sorry. Really, I am. Besides, you're a prophet. That means he can't touch you, not even if he wants to. The worst that he can probably do to you is swap out all of your booze for diet ginger beer or something. Me, on the other hand, he can smite the crap out of and get off scot free."

Dead silence greeted her rather depressing observation, and when she glanced over at the older man again, she found that he was gaping at her openly in what could only be described as sheer and utter disbelief.

"You really do know everything," he whispered hoarsely. "All of the stuff that my fans don't know, the stuff that's really going on."

Jesse couldn't help the scathing snort that escaped from her at the comment, a single eyebrow rising incredulously before she returned to staring fixedly at the top of her soda can. Well, there was no point in denying that part, not when he was already aware of the fact that she knew stuff she wasn't exactly supposed to.

"No, no I don't," she said flatly, her tone very firmly indicating that she would brook no further nonsense from the prophet. "All I know is that I'm knee-deep in the mother of all shitstorms, and there's no shovel in sight. I only know a little bit, like certain events, but I don't know when or where they take place, or anything like that. What I do know is that I want to get the hell out of Dodge before something else happens, like I meet any more angels… or Lucifer."

Jesse shuddered involuntarily at the thought, her grip on the poor soda can tightening up until the aluminum started to creak in protest. She immediately relaxed her grip before she drained the can and set it down on the counter, keeping her gaze focused on the abused, but well-cared for wood.

"So you don't know how the Apocalypse ends?" Chuck prodded quietly, and the younger woman favored him with an incredulous look.

"Oh hell no," she said with a soft snort before she shook her head. "I know jack shit on that."

Another awkward stretch of silence followed her comment, broken only by the sounds of laughter and shouting as people participated in the fake hunt.

"Why diet ginger beer?" the man suddenly piped up, and Jesse looked over at him, clearly surprised, before she cocked an eyebrow, a slightly weak grin playing about her lips as she gave a one-shouldered shrug.

"Because it tastes like crap but still looks like actual alcohol."

For some reason that broke the tension in the room, and the older man started snickering as he stared at her almost incredulously.

"I can't believe you just said that," he finally muttered, and Jesse gave him a crooked grin in response.

"Dude, I work at a dinner theater," she quipped before she pulled a face. "Trust me when I say that you would not believe some of the stuff I've seen the actors use onstage in substitute of actual alcohol." The woman chuckled softly as she shook her head. "Iced tea, cream soda, ginger ale… Actually, in one of the shows I worked, one of the actors used actual beer for the performance. Granted, it was the last night of the show, and he did that trick where you only look like you're drinking it… and he had dumped out half the can before the show, but he still drank it."

She received a very odd look before Chuck shook his head and sighed.

"I don't believe it," he muttered incredulously as he reached up and ran a hand through his hair nervously. "You're real, you're really _real_. I mean… I saw you. I saw you in my head before I even met you, but I thought that… I don't know, maybe Becky had been getting to me or something. You're just so _normal_. You shouldn't be here, not involved in all of this."

A feeling of cold dread slithered its way down her spine and pooled in Jesse's stomach at the prophet's words, and she paled slightly even as she stared at the scruffy man with wide eyes.

"What do you know?" she asked softly, part of her absolutely petrified of hearing the answer and the other part still yearning to know. Chuck gave her a look that was almost pitying before he gave a weary sigh.

"Your name is Jesse Harper. You're twenty-two years old, born September 20th, 1988, and are from the year 2010. You live in the suburbs of Mesa, Arizona with your parents and younger brother, Andrew, two dogs, a hamster, and… a chinchilla?" Jesse couldn't help but grin crookedly in spite of herself at the prophet's evident confusion. That one always seemed to throw people off kilter a bit whenever she told them what pets she had. "You're a Drawing major at ASU, used to be a Veterinary major until you freaked out during your first year, get mostly good grades but you could do better-"

"Hey!"

Her indignant protest didn't even ruffle the man as he continued, obviously wanting to get this over with if the anxious waver in his voice was anything to go by.

"In your own words, you describe yourself as a 'folklore geek', have been since probably about junior high when you read a big illustrated book on Russian folklore that you absolutely adored and checked out about twenty times in a year, you read a… a _lot_, like, more books than most sane people would do in a year," Chuck babbled as he looked over at her incredulously. "Umm… you used to be really big into anime and manga, but you haven't been as interested in it for a while, but you still read some manga. Something to do with getting annoyed with the fandom and how immature the people in it are sometimes, or something like that. You _really_ like watching _Doctor Who _and _House_, and you still act like you're a kid sometimes. And you love listening to music whenever you can."

Jesse shrugged helplessly in response. It was all true, there was no denying that. The man hesitated for a moment, and then blanched as he looked her right in the eyes and Jesse felt her throat clench uncomfortably. Why did she suddenly have a very bad feeling about this?

"When you were seventeen, your uncle died-" Chuck began, and Jesse's eyes widened before she immediately cut him off with a jerky swipe of her hand.

"Stop, I believe you," she croaked hoarsely as she gripped the bar counter in a white-knuckled stranglehold. "No more, just… no more, okay?" She took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to stabilize herself before she looked up at the prophet wearily. To be honest, she hadn't expected for the little man to know that. And it had surprised her at just how much it had both hurt and stunned her for someone who was pretty much a complete stranger to know about something that had changed a good part of her adult life. "So, you pretty much know everything about me then, right?"

Chuck shifted nervously in his seat as he tore his eyes away from hers, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. "Umm… I'm not sure. Y'see, I didn't even know that you existed until about a week ago, and then it was like I suddenly got freight-trained with all of this stuff about what makes you… well, you. I-I'm still trying to sort through everything."

She couldn't help the disbelieving snort that escaped her throat as she cocked an eyebrow and gave the older man an all too skeptical look, the thought '_No shit_' running through her mind even as she frowned faintly. Oh, she knew where this one was going already. Dammit, and here she had been hoping that he _didn't_ know that particular tidbit of information.

"Let me guess," she offered with a wry smirk. Time to test the waters and see what she got. "The TV show."

Chuck all but started hyperventilating at the mere mention of _Supernatural_, her _Supernatural_, and Jesse groaned loudly before she folded her arms on the scarred wooden bar top and buried her face in the sleeves of her jacket. After a few seconds of stiff, frustrated silence, she screamed out a sufficiently muffled "Sonofabitch!" into the thick layers of corduroy and flannel covering her arms. Fantastic, she now had one more headache that she had desperately wanted to avoid. Someone up there must really hate her or something, because they sure as hell seemed to delight in making her life as frustrating as humanly possible.

Fortunately for her, the prophet was the one who broached the subject instead of leaving Jesse to awkwardly explain just what in the hell was going on.

"T-That's insane," he stammered, looking over at her with wide eyes before he shook his head sharply. "I mean, alternate dimensions, a TV show about everything that goes on here… that's… that's not possible."

"Then explain to me how in the hell I got here," Jesse snapped as she made a vague motion to the entire room. "Tell me, in a reasonably logical manner, why I am sitting here talking to someone who shouldn't even be real."

"Maybe you're crazy?" he offered. The woman gave him a highly insulted look in response.

"Crazy people don't question whether or not they're nuts!" she hissed as she leaned in towards the older man. "Me? I've been questioning every damn thing that's happened since last week! You're the one who shouldn't be here talking to me. You're not even real!"

Jesse winced when she realized what she had just said, and sighed as she reached up and dragged a hand through her hair. After a several seconds of awkward silence, she slumped forward in her seat and stared down at her hands uselessly.

"Sorry, I'm just… a little freaked out by all of this," she said wearily. "I mean, this is insane. I'm arguing with a fictional character about whether or not he exists! I might as well just walk up to the closest sanatorium and ask them to admit me right now! Every time I turn around, things just get worse and worse… if this keeps us, I feel like I really will go nuts." She gave the older man a bitter smirk before she gestured sharply to the area in front of them. "And then it's off to the psych ward I go!"

Chuck shrugged helplessly in response, and Jesse sighed as she propped an elbow on the bar and rested her cheek on the heel of her hand. The two sat there in silence for a moment, ignoring the masses of people who thronged around them, laughing and joking without a care in the world. Okay, maybe masses wasn't the appropriate word for the situation. There were maybe a grand total of a hundred and fifty people there tops, all of them fans.

"Chuck?" Jesse suddenly asked quietly, and for that one moment she had never felt so lost and alone in her entire life as she looked at the prophet and swallowed nervously. "Do you know how to send me home?"

He flinched at her question, although it was for all the wrong reasons. "You shouldn't be asking me about that. I-I mean, I'm not some bad-ass monster hunter who has access to all kinds of information on the supernatural."

The words "like Sam and Dean" hung unspoken in the air, and the woman let out an aggravated sigh as she gave the older man a pointed look.

"No, but you're a prophet of God," she stated firmly as she pointed a finger at Chuck, her expression completely serious. "You have access to knowledge that I'm willing to bet Bobby doesn't have." Jesse sighed before she reached up and agitatedly raked a hand through her hair. "I… I don't really know anyone here, not even Sam and Dean. I mean, I know _of_ them, but that's not the same as actually _knowing_ them. This isn't a game here, and I don't think that I can survive here in this world, not for long…"

She trailed off as a short, weak laugh escaped from her lips, and she looked up at Chuck with a pained expression. "Honestly? I'm scared shitless, I want to go home, and I don't even know why this is happening to me. I'm nothing special, really. I'm just a college student."

The man sighed as he shook his head, obviously thinking things over. Jesse closed her eyes and looked away, not wanting to see the denial on his face when he told her "sorry, no can do" and just left her out to dry. As difficult as it had been to spill her guts and actually tell someone what was going on with her, it was even worse to think about what was going to happen if they couldn't help her. Scared didn't even begin to cover it: she was freaking terrified.

"Alright."

Startled, Jesse whipped her head around to stare at Chuck so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash. She didn't care that she almost fell off of her seat as she gaped at the prophet, hardly daring to believe her ears.

"Really?" she whispered faintly, and he gave her a small smile in response as he shrugged.

"I'll do what I can," Chuck said a bit more confidently, and he immediately found himself with a tearful young adult hugging him as tight as she could while she literally wept in relief.

"Thank you thankyouthankyouthankyou!" she babbled hoarsely before she let go and rocked back on her heels, dragging the cuff of her jacket sleeve across her eyes in an attempt to not be so weepy and looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I usually don't freak out like that, but… it-it's been a rough week. And I literally haven't been able to tell anyone about this."

Chuck looked a little uncomfortable by the sudden physical contact, coupled with the general unease that all men have when faced with a crying female, before he frowned slightly as he cocked an eyebrow. "Not even the Winchesters?"

"Especially not them," Jesse stated with an empathetic shake of her head as she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets. "In case you haven't noticed, their luck with weird unknown things has kind of sucked lately, and I think that I definitely fall into the 'weird' category. No, I don't want to tell them about the whole… alternate reality thing. That just looks like a really good way to get myself killed."

The man looked like he wanted to protest her decision before he apparently thought better of it and sighed.

"Sam and Dean are good guys," he finally said after a moment of awkward silence. Jesse gave the older man a weak smile before she got back up onto her bar stool, idly swinging her feet back and forth. Somehow, this action made her look far younger than she actually was.

"I know that they're good guys," she muttered quietly as she looked Chuck in the eyes. "Cas too. I just don't know _them_. How can I trust someone that I don't know?"

Before he could offer further commentary on the situation, he was interrupted by the arrival of two certain individuals who happened to be the subject of their conversation walking into the lobby area, coupled with some dorky-looking kid stumbling down the stairs while arguing very loudly with his equally dorky friend. Jesse glanced over her shoulder just in time to see the kid dressed as Sam jab a finger at the brothers and say something at a lower level of volume than his previous freak-out before he spun around on his heel and stormed out the front door. She blinked in surprise before she looked over at the prophet and quirked an eyebrow curiously.

"Ummm… what the hell was that all about?" she asked. Chuck shrugged helplessly.

"No clue."

Jesse turned back around to face the scene behind her before she let out a short sigh and winced. She already had a really bad feeling about this.

"Well, that can't be good," she finally remarked softly, a cold chill working its way through her in a full-body shudder.

* * *

'Not good' turned out to be a massive understatement.

The dorky guy from the lobby had been attacked by a ghost in one of the upstairs rooms, which explained why had had freaked out in the lobby the way he had. As it turned out, the line of crap that the people running the convention had fed them about the hotel being haunted was true – and it wasn't crap either.

Jesse watched the Winchesters from her spot at the bar as Sam talked to someone on his cell-phone. She was sitting alone again, Chuck having abandoned her when Becky had showed up. Not that she minded. The prophet was a nice enough guy, but he was way too twitchy for his own good, almost like he had consumed his own weight in coffee in an attempt to sober up or something. And Becky wasn't much better. She had come over and chatted with Jesse for a few seconds, her interest piqued when the younger woman had mentioned that she was a college student, before she had right off the bat asked Jesse if she liked Wincest.

Somehow – and she didn't quite remember how she'd managed it – Jesse had fended her off with a very strangled 'No'. She'd almost said 'Hell no' and gone off on a 'sick and _wrong_' rant, but had managed to restrain herself. Barely.

The woman grimaced as she buried her face in her hands, trying to delete the god-awful images that came to mind at the phrase. Unfortunately, she did know what the phrase meant, thanks to an entirely-too-scarring foray into the realm of Fanfiction – she'd been barely even twenty at the time, and a friend had asked her to edit a Supernatural fic that she'd written. It had been bad, that was the only possible description she could ever give without being insulting, and she had returned the chapter printout to said 'friend' as fast as humanly possible. Looking back on it now, she wondered if she should have just burned the damn thing instead of perpetuating the madness. It certainly would have done wonders for her sanity.

"Hey you."

Jesse automatically shied away from the speaker as she twisted around to face them, overbalanced, and fell off the barstool with a yelp. The back of her head cracked against one of the heavy wooden bars placed between the legs of the stool on the way down, and she saw stars for a split second before her vision went black. She must have blacked out for only a few seconds, because she didn't remember actually hitting the ground, but she did find herself sprawled uncomfortably among the stools, her head and back pressed against the underside of the bar as she stared dazedly at the short-haired man that loomed over her.

For one moment her scrambled mind substituted one face for another, one that was far more familiar, as she gazed at the blurry form standing at her feet.

"Andy?" she croaked as she tried to sit up, reaching out towards her brother in an obvious 'help me up' gesture as she listed to the side. "When'd you get here?"

A large hand gripped hers before he hauled her to her feet, and Jesse found herself staring up a suitably confused-looking Dean Winchester instead of her 'little' brother as her vision cleared. Her throat tightened automatically as she realized that her mind had been playing tricks on her. Yeah, a blow to the head would do that.

"Who the hell is Andy?" the hunter asked gruffly as Jesse quickly wrenched her hand from his grasp as though she had been burned, and she lowered her gaze as she tucked her hands under her arms.

"My little brother," she muttered quietly, not wanting to look the older man in the eyes nor for him to see the pained expression on her face. "Everyone always thinks he's older than me though. You kind of have the same haircut. And he's about the same height as you. Sorry."

She flinched slightly as she waited for the typical harsh words that usually followed whenever Dean spoke to her. How in the hell could she have mistaken him for Andy? They didn't even look alike, not really. And, on top of that, she felt like the worst person in the world for the relief that had flooded through her in that single moment when she had thought that her brother was there with her, that she was no longer alone is this hell-hole of a world. What kind of person would wish a family member into the special kind of mess that she was in?

A really shitty one, that's who.

Instead of an insult though, Jesse only received a considering look from the hunter before he firmly placed a hand on the small of her back and propelled her forward at a steady pace towards the area where Sam was still on the phone.

"Found the stray," he remarked offhandedly when his brother looked over at him, and Jesse immediately shot him a highly offended glare at the comment.

"Didn't want to be here in the first place," she retorted irritably. "And I'm not a stray."

"Fine. You're a creepy stalker like her then," Dean shot back, glancing meaningfully over at Becky. Jesse followed his gaze to the person in question, and her expression darkened visibly before she glowered at the brothers.

"If you two dipwads compare me to her-" she growled as she jerked her thumb over at Becky, who was blissfully oblivious to their conversation. "-one more time, so help me God, I will kick your asses."

"You and what army, kid?"

He had her there. Jesse glowered irritably at the hunter, the decidedly uncomfortable sensation of a nervous tic developing just above her right eye as she gritted her teeth and bit back the urge to just rip the man a new one right then and there. Homicide was a bad thing, even if the person you killed was technically already listed as deceased. Besides, Sam would probably kick her ass right then and there with no problem whatsoever. Dammit, she hated being short!

"I am _not_ a kid! I'm freaking 22, okay?" she snapped. "Old enough to drink, old enough to drive, and old enough to do various other… things. Besides, you're hardly one to talk: you drive a granny car!"

Dean almost went white with rage as he glared at her, and Sam took a small step back in an attempt to stay out of the crossfire. Oh, Jesse knew damn good and well that anyone who tried to hurt or insult the Impala in front of Dean had a death wish, but she didn't care. If he was going to keep making cracks about her age, then she was definitely going to respond in kind.

"What was that?" the hunter growled as he loomed over her, and the young woman smirked bitterly at him in reply.

"Not so fun when you're on the receiving end, huh buddy?" she asked flatly as she cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. "Yeah, my great-grandma drove a '67 Impala. Face it; you're only a few crochet needles away from being an old woman."

If looks could kill, then she would be dead, decaying, and roasting in Hell. Operation Piss Dean Winchester Off was now a success. Refusing to be cowed, Jesse raised her chin defiantly and met Dean's furious gaze without flinching, even though the man was literally seething from her comment. A barely-muffled snicker from off to the side quickly broke off the tension, and the older man whipped around to stare accusingly at his brother.

"So what, you're gonna take her side in this?" he demanded hotly even as Sam covered his mouth with one very large hand in an attempt to muffle the ill-timed snickers. Jesse just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"I didn't realize that I even had a side," she remarked tartly. Dean jabbed a finger in her face as he glowered at the smaller woman in what was supposed to be a threatening manner.

"You're not allowed to talk anymore!"

Her upper lip curled in disgust at the order as Jesse gave the older man a withering look. "The only people who can order me around are my mom and dad, chuckles. And you're neither, so you can go screw yourself."

"Look, could you two just both chill out for a second?" the younger Winchester began, only to be ignored. Jesse settled for glaring at Dean through her bangs, which had fallen into her face. She was her own person, and there was no way that she was just going to let some hot-shot fictional character boss her around. It wasn't like he or his brother gave a flying crap about her anyways.

"Dean!"

When she glanced over at Sam, Jesse was surprised to see that his attention was no longer of the impending brawl about to break loose – in all honesty, she kind of hoped that Dean actually would punch her just so she could watch him get his clock cleaned by a bunch of other guys who were pissed off at his 'bullying'. It was surprising how a lot of people seemed to react negatively when they saw someone hit a girl in public. However, before she could even react, the Winchesters had gone off to a table nearby where two of the nutty fans were seated, although Dean did turn around long enough to point a finger at her. His expression said it all; 'I'm not done with you'. When Jesse caught sight of the fans that the brothers were willingly associating themselves with, she had to raise an eyebrow in surprise. One of them was the large guy dressed as Dean that she had almost plowed into when they'd first entered the hotel, and the woman frowned curiously when she caught sight of the large piece of old-looking paper that they were pouring over.

Okay, apparently two weirdos posing as them topped her when it came to their attention. And she was perfectly alright with that. It meant that she wasn't being subjected to the Winchester Death Glare™, at least for a little while.

The woman sighed before she leaned up against the bar and shoved her hands into her pockets, trying to look unconcerned that she was stuck in a hotel with a whole bunch of nutso fans and two very cranky hunters. Chuck had said that he would help her, and she was absolutely ecstatic over that single fact, but the fact remained that she was still stuck in an alternate reality where dark evil crap was very, _very_ real. Sure, the prophet was probably the best person to talk to when it came to her problem – after all, he had a direct link to God, and God knew everything, so all she had to do now was wait for an answer, hopefully – but she couldn't help but be nervous. It scared her to think about how much she didn't know this world. Folklore nerd didn't exactly translate all that well into hunter, and she was nowhere near as tough as she liked to make people think she was.

In a lot of ways she was helpless here, and the mere realization of this fact rankled Jesse like no other. Ever since she had entered high school and learned to stand up for herself, she'd hated feeling helpless. Being the damsel in distress was something that she'd always tried to avoid. If she had problems with something, then she'd deal with them herself.

With a soft sigh of annoyance the woman reached up and dragged her right hand through her hair, pulling her bangs back away from her face as she reclined against the bar top. When she looked up however, for a second she thought that she saw someone lounging nonchalantly against the wall directly across the room from her. A very familiar someone. A very familiar someone who had a knowing, satisfied smirk plastered on his face even as her mouth went dry and her stomach clenched tightly in fear.

Gabriel.

Jesse immediately did a double-take, and was not at all reassured to see that the space on the wall opposite to her was completely vacant. A cold shudder of dread went through her, and she immediately recalled how Castiel had been able to snatch her. She had been off by herself, just like she was right now.

Okay, finding a group of people right the hell now was probably a _very_ good idea.

"I hate my life, I hate my life, I hate my life," Jesse chanted quietly under her breath as she quickly shoved herself away from the bar and walked over towards where the Winchesters were standing, doing her best not to look like she was at all freaked out. Personally she hoped that what she had just seen had been nothing more than a trick of her over-stressed mind, but she knew better than to try and delude herself. The skin along the back of her neck and spine was literally crawling, although whether it was just from nerves or legitimate fear, she had no clue.

Maybe Gabriel hadn't actually been in the hotel lobby, maybe he had. Either way, she didn't care. She wasn't going to risk it, not this time.

Jesse came up behind the Winchesters just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation, something about an old map and a graveyard. She cocked an eyebrow, and then shook her head before she sidestepped just enough so that Sam and Dean could both see her and wiggled her fingers in an odd little half-wave, and then went and hid behind the two hunters. Yeah, she knew that she was acting like a little kid on their first day of school, but she was more than a little freaked out at the moment. It made her feel a little better to at least be around someone who knew what the hell they were doing, even if she wasn't too fond of them at the moment.

Unlike a certain archangel, at least the Winchesters hadn't killed her or tried to… yet.

Thus hidden behind the two six-foot-something brothers, Jesse was able to observe the two guys they were talking to without too much trouble. The one dressed like Sam – like Season One and Two Sam if you really wanted to be specific – was all angles, and lanky as hell. Jesse privately dubbed him Longshanks, made it easier to identify him since she didn't know his name, and didn't know what to call his buddy. For some reason, she got the sneaking suspicion that Dean wouldn't appreciate her dubbing him 'Dean 2'.

After a few moments of listening to the two guys talk, something about them going on the 'hunt' that was supposed to be taking place, she came to a very interesting conclusion. Both of these chuckleheads were complete, and utter, _morons_.

"Uh, we get the Sizzler gift card," Longshanks stated, trying to sound impressive. Uh, yeah; FAIL.

"Fine." If looks could kill, then the moron in front of them would have been a steaming pile of ash.

A very _big_ pile of ash.

Lard-butt chose that exact moment to pipe up, attempting to look cool as he tried to stare down the two irritated hunters. "And we get to be Sam and Dean."

Part of Jesse wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, while the rest of her just wanted find the closest wall and start banging her head against it. This was so stupid, it really was. Hunting was not fun, it was not cool, and it was definitely not a game. She understood that, and she wasn't even from this stupid freaking reality. Sam and Dean exchanged almost twin annoyed looks before the eldest Winchester finally gave a curt nod of acceptance.

"Fine."

"Yes…" the fake Dean hissed enthusiastically, and Jesse rolled her eyes in response as she stayed safely hidden behind the two taller men. Once the two males had started to head outside for the cemetery with the Winchesters in tow, she cocked an eyebrow before she let out a soft snort.

"Shall I start laughing my ass off now, or wait until later?" she asked wryly when Sam and Dean turned around to look at her. The eldest Winchester fixed her with a withering glare in response, his expression telling her just how unamused he was with the situation.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed. "I thought you didn't want to be anywhere near us."

Jesse shrugged noncommittally as she averted her gaze slightly.

"Got a serious case of the wiggins, decided that it was probably safer with someone who actually knew what the hell was going on," she muttered almost sheepishly before she gave the men a strained grin. "Sooo… what is going on?"

"'Wiggins'?" Dean parroted as he stared at her, almost as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What the hell is that?"

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference," Sam explained before Jesse could say anything, and then shrugged when his brother looked over at him incredulously.

"Dude, could you be more gay?" he retorted before he shook his head and fixed Jesse with a withering stare. "And you… you shouldn't even be out here. Go back inside and play 'dress-up' with the rest of your freaky little friends."

Brown eyes narrowed dangerously as the hunter put his back to her in an apparent dismissal, and Jesse cut him short as she reached out and grabbed him roughly by the back of his leather jacket.

"I am _nothing_ like these yahoos!" she hissed as she glared angrily at the man. "I thought it was a freaking _story_, nothing more. I appreciated the plot, and enjoyed it as a story. I was never _obsessed_ with it." With that, Jesse tightened her grip as her expression became a little bit more shut off. "And do me a favor, will ya? Get it through your thick skull that I don't want to be here, at all. I want to go home and let this whole mess be over and done with, capisce? So stop blaming all of this crap on _**me**_."

Having said her piece, the woman let go of Dean's jacket and spun around on her heel before she stalked back into the hotel, arms held stiffly by her sides even as her fingernails dug deep into the unprotected palms of her hands. She was mad. Every time she tried to accept what Sam and Dean were trying to do, one of them went and decided to be an asshole. Mostly Dean.

Jesse gritted her teeth in pure frustration and sucked in a slow breath as she hurried through the hotel lobby. She needed to find someplace to cool off, preferably before she went homicidal on some poor random bystander. But honestly, was it too much to ask that she get a break? She wasn't looking for acceptance, or even a welcome with open arms. All she wanted was for the guys to not treat her like she was some kind of rabid animal that needed to be put down, but they weren't quite sure how to do it.

Then again, at this point she'd settle for a click of her heels and chanting "There's no place like home".

She sighed wearily as the anger began to dissipate, and Jesse glanced around at the hallway she was in before she turned around. A long stretch of empty hallway lay behind her, and the woman frowned as she realized that she had probably been fuming for a little longer the necessary. She had a tendency to space out when she was ticked off, and she had most likely been walking the entire time… so that meant she was in an area of the hotel that she hadn't visited yet. Joy.

"Behold my stupidity," Jesse muttered dryly to the empty air around her as she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and began to head back down the hallway. She had made it only part of the way before she passed by an open door that led to what looked like a mini library.

The young woman immediately stopped in her tracks before she grinned. Okay, books were good. Books didn't hurl accusations at you, and libraries were awesome. Plus she hadn't really read anything in the past week since she'd started her cross-country exodus, so the thought of relaxing just a bit appealed to her. Maybe it would help take her mind off all of the stupid crap that was taking place, as well as her apparent descent into insanity. Within a few minutes, Jesse had found something that looked good – a book by Bob Curran titled _Bloody Irish: Great Irish Vampire Stories_ – and was curled up comfortably in one of the leather chairs. Time seemed to fall away as she paged through the stories, relaxing as she allowed the familiar comfort of the author's words to wash over her.

Bob Curran had a very unique way of looking at folklore – he would go over both the mythos and the logical explanations of it, as well as the history and how life was like during that particular time period. He didn't just regurgitate the tales; he explained them. Now, if someone could actually explain everything here for her in a nice, neat, tidy little book like one of Dr. Curran's, then she'd be set.

"Where's Miss Gore?"

Jesse jerked in surprise before she looked up from her book at the person who had spoken. A little boy, probably no more than seven or eight, stood just inside the doorway of the little library and stared at her mournfully. He was unnaturally pale and wearing odd clothes for a kid his age, but so was everyone else in the hotel. The poor kid was probably one of the 'actors' that they were using for the 'hunt'. The woman couldn't help but feel a wave of nostalgia as she gave the boy a small smile – he looked like he was about the same age as her youngest cousin, Chris.

"Sorry kiddo, but I'm not one of the hunters," she said as she shrugged. "I think most of them are all downstairs."

The kid looked so disappointed by the statement that Jesse immediately felt bad for him. She set her book down on the little lamp table by her seat and got to her feet.

"Hey, don't feel bad," she offered reassuringly as she walked over towards the boy before she crouched down in front of him so she was relatively close to the same height. "I just came up here to get some peace and quiet that's all. It's not your fault."

"Will you play with me?" he asked suddenly, and Jesse rocked back slightly on her heels as she canted her head to the side. Wow, the kid must really be bored out of his skull if he wanted to play with her.

Jesse suddenly remembered how all of her younger cousins adored playing with the older ones whenever they got together, always delighting in the fact that the 'big kids' – with several of them ranging all the way up into their mid-twenties – were playing with them. She smiled softly before she got to her feet.

"Sure, I'll play a game with you," she said. She could handle giving piggy-back rides for a little bit, or playing hide-and-go-seek.

Just when she was about to reach out and ruffle the boy's hair affectionately – an automatic reflex – he gave a smile that was none too innocent or childish. The woman froze at the sight of the smile, an odd leaden sensation in her stomach as she slowly withdrew her hand. For some reason, she had the feeling that she had just done something incredibly stupid.

"Miss Gore wouldn't let us have any fun," the boy said suddenly, and Jesse gave him an appropriately wary look right before the kid _flickered_ in his spot. Her eyes all but bugged out of their sockets at the sight, and she immediately backed up right before two other boys appeared right next to the first one and gave her an eerie, homicidal smile that did not belong on the face of any child. "But now that she's gone, we can have all the fun we want."

Jesse did a decent impression of a fish out of water as she opened and closed her mouth wordlessly several times. Okay, out of all the things she had expected, this hadn't been one of them. The woman spared the ghost children one last glance before she shook her head and tired to run for the door.

'Tried' being the operative word.

Before Jesse could even take more than two steps towards the doorway, the heavy wooden door slammed shut without warning, the sound reverberating loudly through the small room before it was followed by the distinctive sound of a bolt sliding into the latch. She immediately reeled backwards, terror clinging to her as she stared wide-eyed at the three boys – no, ghosts, they were definitely ghosts – as they all leered at her. Jesse made a faint keening noise in the back of her throat as she backed up rapidly. This was bad, this was bad, this was really, _really_ bad.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't even scream as she backpedaled as fast as she could from the three ghost boys, her breath catching in her throat as her gaze darted frantically from the locked door behind them to the maniacal grins that the specters were giving her as they approached her.

If she could curse herself for being a complete and total _moron_, then she would have, especially since she should have known that going off on her own was a BAD IDEA, no matter how pissed off she was at the time. This was _Supernatural_ – going off on your own practically duct-taped a gigantic target to your back with the words 'Kill me!' right above it in neon letters.

Her back hit the wall, and that finally managed to jump-start Jesse's vocal cords. Granted, all it turned into was a vocalization of the same phrase that her brain was currently gibbering in sheer and utter terror, but hey, it was a start.

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god," she whimpered as she pressed herself against the back wall of the old room. The lead ghost boy smirked as he brandished his knife, and Jesse dug her heels into the wooden floor as though if she shoved hard enough she could fall through the wall while all of the color drained from her face.

"I thought we already had this conversation."

The woman flinched at the new voice before she looked over at Gabriel, who lounged easily against the locked door with a thoughtful look on his face. So seeing him in the hotel lobby earlier probably hadn't been a figment of her imagination. Dammit, that meant she had a stalker. It was also testament to just how weird the past week had been, because she didn't even bother to ask how he had gotten past the locked door.

"Not a fan of the kids, eh?" he asked, lips quirking up into a smirk as the three mini-ghosts turned around to face him almost as one. Jesse glanced over at the boys, and then at the archangel, before she very quickly came to a decision. Pride be damned, there was no way in hell she was dying here.

"Get me the hell out of here," she said hurriedly, and then winced before she swallowed nervously. "Please."

For one second Gabriel looked surprised by her request before he smirked viciously at the woman. "After the stunt you pulled earlier? Hmm, let me think." He pulled a mock-thoughtful expression, and then cocked his head to the side as he smiled darkly at her. "No."

The creepy ghost brats chose that exact moment to speak up. "Now we have _two_ new playmates."

Those words sent a shudder of fear and revulsion down the woman's spine as she stared at the boy who looked the oldest while he grinned maniacally at her, right before he pulled out an old-fashioned, wicked-looking strop razor. She knew right then and there what he meant by playing with her – she just knew, no need for anyone to spell it out for her; she'd be murdered by a trio of dead elementary school kids. Just the thought made her want to be sick, especially when she realized that they had most likely done the same thing to one of their schoolmates if the story they'd been told by the guy downstairs earlier was true. And, of course, they had her locked in a room with them.

Just bloody _fantastic_.

Jesse gritted her teeth as she realized how majorly screwed she was if she didn't get out of this, _now_. She looked between the boys and then over at Gabriel, who was still smirking unkindly at her, before she reached a decision. She only had one thing left to bargain with, and she actually wanted to live long enough to get home. Pride would get her nowhere if she was dead.

If this didn't work though, then she was majorly screwed.

"Dammit, I'll tell you," she bit out. "I'll tell you how I know!"

Surprise flashed across the man's face at her admission before he just disappeared. For all of ten seconds, Jesse thought that he had just abandoned her to the ghost kid's tender mercies, and began to freak out again. However, the next thing she knew, a masculine hand gripped her tightly by her upper arm, and the entire world tilted on its axis before she stumbled backwards as everything came to rest out in the little garden area out behind the hotel.

The grip on her arm suddenly disappeared, and Jesse landed flat on her backside in the long, wet grass with a soft 'thump', her vision swimming before she pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. With a shuddering sigh, Jesse closed her eyes and tried to focus on nothing other than her breathing.

A slight rattling, low rasp met her ears whenever she inhaled, and she cursed silently. Great, she'd given herself the beginnings of an asthma attack with her little freak-out there. Wonderful. Just what she needed to deal with, more crap.

"Are you gonna be sick there, or are you just ignoring me? 'Cause if I remembered correctly, you promised me some answers if I saved your sorry ass."

Jesse flinched at the voice, at the sneering, arrogant tone it carried, and silently wished that, out of all the angels who could have possibly taken an interest in her arrival, it had been anyone other than Gabriel.

* * *

Wow… I did not expect to churn out that chapter the way I did. It's almost like I was compelled to get this out before a certain friend of mine went to a Supernatural convention.

Yes everyone, my best friend (whose real name I have agreed not to use), and the real-life inspiration for Jesse Harper, well, at least her physical description and some of her personality, is going to the Salute to Supernatural convention in LA next weekend. She's really excited about it (and I am incredibly jealous because I can't go with her), and she's going to several photo-ops. So, expect to see pictures on my Deviant Art page sometime soon of 'Jesse' appearing with Cas, Gabriel, and various others. I already have one picture of 'Belarus' – my friend's nickname (don't ask, 'cause it's a really long story) – up on Deviant Art, and you can see it by clicking on my 'Homepage' link on my Fan Fiction profile.

In other news, it has been freezing cold where I live. Some people are calling it the Snowpocalypse, and right now I'm starting to agree with them. Especially after I remembered that whole "Everyone thinks I burn hot, but it's really quite the opposite" line of Lucifer's, and I started giggling nervously while staring out the kitchen window. Yeah, got some weird looks from my family for that one. In my defense though, all I could think about was Lucifer walking up to my front porch and getting buried by this big pile of snow that slid off the roof.

Anyways… on to the reviews.

**Reviews**

Thank you again to everyone who reviewed, especially those of you who have pointed out the various things that need addressing (couch – Jesse's increasingly fragile mental state – cough). I must admit that I am very impressed with Jesse's general reception with everyone, and the main fact that everyone seems to focus on is that she knows the 'terrain' of Supernatural a bit, but she's not a rabid fangirl. She's scared out of her mind, and she hates everything that she has to go through. So, in short, everyone appreciates the fact that she acts like a real person.

(Goes off in a corner and tries not to bust a rib laughing her ass off)

Sorry, sorry, but that was just too funny. I was once told not too many years ago that people didn't want their characters to feel real, that they weren't supposed to act like the kid you sit next to in math class. Guess that just goes to show that people can be wrong.

Anyways, many thanks to Alowl, Delphine Pryde, PRCvek, gabefan, Luna del Cielo, .angel14, Time and Fate, JinxedCobra, Ridea, Maat, AuntMo, NeverGoodbyeRoxas, Ceville, and Aria DeLoncray for all reviewing. You guys rock!


	8. Chapter 8: Creative Differences

_Like a game of chess  
I predict your move  
I think I know you better  
Better than you do  
I'm sick of feeling cheap  
Cheated and abused  
Sick of losing sleep  
Thinking about you_

_I'm feelin' like I keep on talking_  
_I'm repeating_  
_Myself, my words lost all meaning_  
_I keep talking_  
_I repeat myself__

_I just wanna run, hide it away_  
_Run because they're chasing me down_  
_I just wanna run, throw it away_  
_Run before they're finding me out_  
_I just wanna run (run, run, run)_  
_I just wanna run (run, run, run)_

-"I Just Wanna Run" by **The Downtown Fiction**

"I know the world isn't fair, but why can't it be unfair in my favor?" – Bill Watterson

**Chapter Eight:**

**Creative Differences**

**Then:**

"_I thought we already had this conversation."_

_The woman flinched at the new voice before she looked over at Gabriel, who lounged easily against the locked door with a thoughtful look on his face. So seeing him in the hotel lobby earlier probably hadn't been a figment of her imagination. Dammit, that meant she had a stalker. It was also testament to just how weird the past week had been, because she didn't even bother to ask how he had gotten past the locked door._

"_Not a fan of the kids, eh?" he asked, lips quirking up into a smirk as the three mini-ghosts turned around to face him almost as one. Jesse glanced over at the boys, and then at the archangel, before she very quickly came to a decision. Pride be damned, there was no way in hell she was dying here._

"_Get me the hell out of here," she said hurriedly, and then winced before she swallowed nervously. "Please."_

_For one second Gabriel looked surprised by her request before he smirked viciously at the woman. "After the stunt you pulled earlier? Hmm, let me think." He pulled a mock-thoughtful expression, and then cocked his head to the side as he smiled darkly at her. "No."_

_The creepy ghost brats chose that exact moment to speak up. "Now we have __**two**__ new playmates."_

_Those words sent a shudder of fear and revulsion down the woman's spine as she stared at the boy who looked the oldest while he grinned maniacally at her, right before he pulled out an old-fashioned, wicked-looking strop razor. She knew right then and there what he meant by playing with her – she just knew, no need for anyone to spell it out for her; she'd be murdered by a trio of dead elementary school kids. Just the thought made her want to be sick, especially when she realized that they had most likely done the same thing to one of their schoolmates if the story they'd been told by the guy downstairs earlier was true. And, of course, they had her locked in a room with them._

_Just bloody __**fantastic**__._

_Jesse gritted her teeth as she realized how majorly screwed she was if she didn't get out of this, __**now**__. She looked between the boys and then over at Gabriel, who was still smirking unkindly at her, before she reached a decision. She only had one thing left to bargain with, and she actually wanted to live long enough to get home. Pride would get her nowhere if she was dead._

_If this didn't work though, then she was majorly screwed._

"_Dammit, I'll tell you," she bit out. "I'll tell you how I know!"_

_Surprise flashed across the man's face at her admission before he just disappeared. For all of ten seconds, Jesse thought that he had just abandoned her to the ghost kid's tender mercies, and began to freak out again. However, the next thing she knew, a masculine hand gripped her tightly by her upper arm, and the entire world tilted on its axis before she stumbled backwards as everything came to rest out in the little garden area out behind the hotel._

_The grip on her arm suddenly disappeared, and Jesse landed flat on her backside in the long, wet grass with a soft 'thump', her vision swimming before she pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees. With a shuddering sigh, Jesse closed her eyes and tried to focus on nothing other than her breathing._

_A slight rattling, low rasp met her ears whenever she inhaled, and she cursed silently. Great, she'd given herself the beginnings of an asthma attack with her little freak-out there. Wonderful. Just what she needed to deal with, more crap._

"_Are you gonna be sick there, or are you just ignoring me? 'Cause if I remembered correctly, you promised me some answers if I saved your sorry ass."_

_Jesse flinched at the voice, at the sneering, arrogant tone it carried, and silently wished that, out of all the angels who could have possibly taken an interest in her arrival, it had been anyone other than Gabriel._

**Now:**

"Well? I'm waiting."

Jesse gritted her teeth even as she screwed her eyes shut and pulled her knees closer to her chest. She didn't want to deal with this, not now, not ever. All she wanted to do was wake up in her own bed, find out that this whole mess was just a weird dream caused by her having an asthma attack in her sleep, have a neb treatment, and go back to bed. Problem solved, she could go on with her life, and everything was great.

But no, this had to be real because it just. Wouldn't. _End_.

"Do you want the crazy, 'ship my ass off to the nuthouse right away' version, or the Disney-appropriate one?" she bit out tersely without bothering to look up from where she was curled up on the damp ground. Right now, she could care less about looking confident. She had just given in to an insanely powerful being's pressure all in favor of saving her own hide for a few more minutes, all while knowing that he'd probably smite the crap out of her once he got his answers. Confident was the last thing she felt.

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow in response as he gave her an odd look, clearly not pleased with her comment. "You trying to back out?"

Jesse peered up at him through her bangs, which she didn't even bother to brush out of her face, and scowled.

"No," she said almost petulantly. She was a lot of things, coward and hyper being only a few of them, but she never welched on an agreement. Although, right now, she was definitely considering the possibility. She felt like she wanted to pass out and throw up, all at the same time. This was what being scared out of her bloody mind felt like. She knew without a doubt that if she made one wrong move, if she screwed up even a little, she was dead. Everything before now was small potatoes compared to this.

Yeah, throwing up. She definitely felt like throwing up.

"Then what are you waiting for?" the archangel quipped as he gave her a smartass smirk, tilting his head to the side slightly as he looked down at her. "What, you not happy to see me?"

Why that arrogant, self-serving, cocksure little… Jesse barely managed to repress the irritated growl that automatically rose up in the back of her throat as she let go of her legs and straightened out a little. She was still sitting down, but she was no longer in the almost-fetal position she had adopted after almost getting shanked by a ghost. The woman drew in a shaky breath to stabilize herself, ignoring the faint wheeze that ensued, as she planted her left hand firmly down on the cold, damp grass, fingers digging deep into the long blades in an attempt to stave off the tremors that were already beginning to take hold.

"Hoisted on their own petards, remember?" she snapped as she made a swift, almost violent, gesture in midair with her right hand. "Forgive me if I actually have a sense of self-preservation."

Gabriel looked taken aback by her comment for all of ten seconds before he burst out laughing. The woman silently cocked an eyebrow in response; she didn't think that she'd said anything particularly amusing.

"You talk pretty tough for a kid who probably isn't even old enough to've had 'The Talk' yet," the man chuckled as he gave her a condescending smirk. Jesse's jaw dropped as she gaped at him indignantly before she let out a low growl, too mad to even speak for a moment. How dare he!

"If you're gonna act like a dick, why don't you pull a condom over your head so you'll look like one too!" she retorted angrily.

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Jesse wanted to smack herself at her own stupidity. First of all, that comeback was roughly along the lines of saying 'your mom', and just about as mature. The last time she'd ever heard that phrase used was when she'd been in high school. Granted, Carol had been the one who had said it, and they hadn't been able to stop snickering for almost a full five minutes afterwards, but still. It was now official: being around Gabriel was definitely not beneficial to her mental health. The archangel stared at her, an odd expression of curiosity and bewilderment plastered across his face – probably about as close as he could ever possibly get to being surprised, before he suddenly grinned.

"You're not as meek and polite as you let people think you are," he finally said slowly as he gave her a considering glance, a look of sly cunning in his eyes. Jesse knew right then and there that she was staring at probably one of the most dangerous and capricious beings on the face of the planet. If she remembered her mythology correctly, Loki had been known for two things: being contrary, and having one _hell_ of a temper. "You're a lively one, I'll give you that."

And for some incredibly warped and disturbing reason that was completely beyond her understanding, he thought she was interesting. Oh dear Lord in Heaven, she was so going to die.

"Must be the Irish in me," the woman stated dryly as she squared her shoulders. The Harper temper in her family was legendary, but unlike her brother, Jesse actually had a fairly firm grip on it. There had been only one instance in her lifetime when she had well and truly lost it. There would never be a second, not as far as she was concerned.

However, if Gabriel kept provoking her, she just might consider making an exception to the rule.

A single pale eyebrow rose in response to her remark. After a few seconds, Gabriel slowly looked her up and down, his green-gold eyes finally lingering on the Celtic cross that hung in full view from the black cord around her neck. Jesse pursed her lips together, but said nothing as she slowly reached up and wrapped her fingers around the small piece of pewter, almost as though she could shield herself from the angel's attention with the fragment of intricately-shaped metal clenched in her white-knuckled grasp. He gave her a knowing look as his lips quirked up into a sarcastic smirk.

"Suddenly so many things make sense," the older male said wryly. Jesse just rolled her eyes in response. She was not going to rise to the bait on this one. "Now enough stalling, kiddo. Tell me what you know, and how you know it. And don't give me any more of that 'it's in the books' bull, because you and I both know that's a load of crap."

The woman flinched slightly at the comment as she released her pendant and got to her feet, keeping her eyes aimed down towards the ground the entire time. She didn't say anything as she stalled for a little but, using one hand to swipe at the seat of her jeans to brush away any bits of grass or leaves that may have decided to cling to her backside. Part of her wanted to tell the truth, if only to just get the whole thing over and done with. Unfortunately, she knew all too well that if she did, she'd probably die a horrible and gruesome death. She really didn't think that she could survive another round of 'How Many Ways Can We Kill Jesse in TV Land?' – physically or mentally – all because a moody archangel didn't like what she was saying. Knowing her luck at the moment, he'd probably think that she was screwing with him.

What she really needed right now was a way to trick a Trickster. Preferably one that wouldn't get her killed.

"Look… you need to understand that at least 99 percent of what I know is all in the past," Jesse finally admitted reluctantly as she dragged a hand through her hair agitatedly, a slight quaver to her voice as she spoke. Oh please, dear God, don't let her screw this up. "The rest… well, it's all out of context. I know _things_, like how you weren't really Loki, but I don't _know_ them. I don't know the when's or the where's, the why's or the how's. It's just… sometimes I know things, and most of the time I know them too late for me to do anything about it."

"Meaning?" Gabriel asked, an odd edge to his voice as he stared intently at her. Jesse shrugged uselessly in response before she let out a weary sigh, and looked up at the archangel with an almost lost look in her eyes.

She was trapped here. And if she told him the truth, the whole 'you're nothing more than a TV character' truth, she'd die here. She needed to survive if she ever wanted to see her family again, if she ever wanted to get her life back. To do that, she needed an explanation that would clarify things a little better without standing out too much.

Jesse bit her lip in anxiety as she tried not to start hyperventilating. She didn't know if she could do this. She wasn't anything particularly special, not extraordinarily brave or talented like the Winchesters were… Wait a second; that was it.

"Umm, this is the best example I have, I think. About five years ago, I… I knew that my uncle was dead almost a full thirty seconds before my dad called from the hospital," she said softly, keeping her gaze very firmly fixed on the ground by her shoes as she spoke. "I just _knew_, long enough for me to get out of my chair and head for the back door right as my dad called."

Her throat clenched unpleasantly at the memory, and she refused to look up at Gabriel. The memory, what had happened was real. The only difference was that she still thought that the sinking, nauseating feeling she had experienced before he dad had called had been a product of the deep-seated fear her family had lived with throughout the entire course of her uncle's illness. Jesse shivered as a cold wind whipped through the trees around them – a shudder passed through the woman as she finally realized that they were standing out in a little graveyard of some kind – before she tucked her hands under her arms in an attempt to warm up a bit. She had just shared something incredibly private with the angel, and she didn't want to see or hear any kind of brush-off. Granted, she still wasn't being completely honest, but at least this explanation didn't make her sound like a complete and total lunatic.

Seriously, dimension-hopping? Coming from a reality where this whole world and everything in it was a TV show? No one – well, except for Chuck, but he was a prophet, so he didn't count – would ever believe her. Besides, the story about her uncle was true, and that was what mattered.

"So… what you're saying is that you have some kind of weak precognition," Gabriel finally drawled, and Jesse reluctantly glanced over at him.

"Yeah, I guess," she muttered as she gave an awkward, one-shouldered shrug.

"But you're not psychic."

The woman grimaced visibly at the thought, a shudder working its way through her body even as she pressed her arms closer to her body to ward off the chill that went through her at his somewhat flat, yet intrigued, tone. She swallowed thickly as her mind wandered off into the desperately-avoided territory of whether or not she was going to die. No, she had to focus on getting out of there with her hide intact, not the what ifs.

"God, I hope not."

There was no way in hell that she ever wanted to be a _Supernatural_-brand psychic. She'd grown up seeing her dad's migraines whenever the weather changed, how the pain had sometimes given him almost flu-like symptoms and practically debilitated him. Andy got them too, and the low-grade one she'd gotten her second year of college had almost killed her – metaphorically – before she'd gotten some Motrin into her system. From what she could deduce, the visions that Azazel's special kids had received were accompanied by blinding, vomit-inducing migraines, probably even worse than the ones her dad got.

No, she definitely did not want to be a psychic. But she had no problem in pretending to be one.

Well, at least slightly psychic.

"Hmmm… that's very interesting," the angel mused quietly as he nodded, his lips twisting into a thoughtful frown while he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Jesse watched him for a while as a weighty silence descended.

"Look, any abilities that I may have are at like, _School for the Gifted_ level," she remarked dryly in an attempt to break the awkward silence. At the confused look that Gabriel gave her, the woman let out a groan of pure annoyance. "Oh you have to be kidding… you seriously haven't heard of that comic? Gary Larson? _The Far Side_? 'Bummer of a birthmark, Hal'? Is _any_ of this ringing a bell for you?"

"Nope," the angel said cheerfully. Jesse shook her head as she sighed, reaching up to rub at the back of her neck.

"And just when I thought things couldn't get any more depressing around here," she muttered.

Gabriel cocked an eyebrow before he fixed the woman with an intense stare. "Speaking of some of the weird things you say, care to explain the little comment you made yesterday about this 'shithole of a reality'?"

She froze in her spot, keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the ground by her feet for several seconds before she slowly looked up at the archangel. He almost flinched at the positively glacial look in her eyes as Jesse glared murderously at him.

"That is _none_ of your business!" she all but snarled. When she registered the stunned expression on the man's face, she sighed as she reached up and rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Sorry, touchy subject. It's just that… before today, before I met the author of that stupid series, I still hoped that this was all just some screwed-up dream or something. Never in a million years did I ever think that all of this could be real."

For several seconds neither of them said anything as Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and fixed her with a thousand-yard stare that made her feel like he could see exactly what was running through her head. And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the scrutinizing stare vanished, replaced by the typical cocksure attitude of the Trickster. Jesse silently wondered if Gabriel was bipolar, if angels could even be bipolar. He sure as hell had the mood swings to qualify.

"Hmmm… well you know they always say be careful what you wish for," the angel in question suddenly remarked somewhat cheerfully, his tone one of feigned nonchalance, and Jesse rewarded him with a flat stare that spoke volumes on her general opinion of him. Namely that she hoped he would suddenly drop straight into the bowels of the earth.

"I didn't wish for squat," she informed Gabriel stiffly as she crossed her arms and looked away from the male's piercing gaze. "Look, I was at school all day when this crap happened. No time for wishing there, especially when you're battling off sleep deprivation."

The angel made a noncommittal noise in response, and Jesse looked over at him to see that he was no longer focused on her, but rather staring intently at the hotel that they had vacated previously. She couldn't help but shudder as she gazed at the building. There was no force on this planet that would be able to get her back in there after her little encounter with the psycho ghost kids. Hell, she'd freaking sleep outside if she had to.

Suddenly, Gabriel reached out and grabbed her by the upper arm once again, and the world fell away for the second time that night. This time, when everything stopped spinning, they were out somewhere by the parking lot. Jesse fell flat on her backside for the second time with a pained grunt the second Gabriel let go of her arm. The woman muttered several very unkind phrases under her breath as she clapped a hand to her face and waited for the dizziness that always seemed to follow whenever she was yanked somewhere via angel to fade.

"Will you _please_ stop doing that?" Jesse muttered as she closed her eyes. "You know, most sane people usually _walk_ to where they need to go."

"Oh cry me a friggin' river," the angel retorted with a roll of his eyes. Obviously he didn't care that she currently felt like her stomach was about to host a full-scale rebellion.

"Fine. And then I'll push you into it."

Gabriel gave her a long, sidelong glance, a frown making its way across his face before he slowly turned around and loomed over her menacingly. Jesse didn't even bat an eye at the archangel's attempt at intimidation as she stayed seated where she had fallen down. Gabriel was pretty freaking scary when he was doing the whole 'I am the Archangel Gabriel and I will smite you where you stand' act, but the typical male 'I am taller than you, so fear me' crap? Nope, not scary. Especially once a little voice in the back of her mind very helpfully piped up that she was in the perfect position to rabbit-kick him in the balls.

Now, whether or not it would actually _work_ was another matter entirely. Somehow, she got the feeling that her luck wasn't _that_ good.

"You have an answer for everything, don't you, you little smartass?" Gabriel growled. The woman's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise. She was obviously getting on his nerves, which in her book was a very good thing. Apparently even dickwad archangels had limits to their patience, even the smart-alec, prankaholic ones.

So, instead of giving the older male a somewhat obscene response, she instead smiled innocently at him, and damn near burst out laughing at the stunned, and slightly disconcerted expression that crossed his face. Guess there actually was some truth to the saying 'smile, it makes people wonder what you're up to'.

"Yep," she chirped brightly. "And the sooner you learn that, the sooner you can _shut up_."

Not surprisingly, Gabriel's eyes narrowed dangerously as he bared his teeth in a silent, angry sneer before he took a step towards the woman. Jesse, having expected this, had already scrambled to her feet before she began to back up, her entire body stiff with barely-repressed tension. The archangel stared intently at Jesse for several long moments, watching her as she tried to nonchalantly remain calm even as she stared at him defiantly.

"You have a death wish, don't you?" he finally asked, a tense undercurrent to his voice. Jesse merely cocked an eyebrow in response, although she did continue to keep backing away one step at a time even as her hands started to tremble slightly. No, she wasn't running. She was just getting ready to get the hell out of Dodge to the best of her ability should things decide to go all pear-shaped.

"And why do you say that?"

An odd little half-smirk crossed the man's face at her comment, and Jesse felt her stomach do an anxious summersault even as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans to hide them from sight. That smirk did not mean good things, especially since Gabriel was the one wearing it. And he had just looked like he was about two seconds away from kicking her ass before he'd suddenly switched moods, so that didn't exactly do wonders for her self-confidence at the moment. He had to be bi-polar, had to be. That was the only possible explanation.

"Most people would think twice about insulting an archangel," he pointed out smugly. "Or, for that matter, deliberately baiting one."

Oh, so that's what was bugging him. Jesse let out a long sigh as she tried to remain nonchalant about the situation.

"I never made any claims on being my parents' smartest child," she finally stated with a shrug. "And, uh, if you're expecting me to suddenly drop down on my knees and go 'smite me oh mighty smiter'… well, you're gonna be waiting for a while. Yeah, not gonna happen."

And Jesse managed to say all of this even as she continually edged backwards and eyed Gabriel warily. She was a smartass, but her parents had raised no fool. She was treading a dangerous path, and no one knew it better than her. But the thing was she literally had no idea what she was supposed to do if she couldn't get out of this whole mess. And asking Gabriel for help was definitely out of the question. That right there just seemed like a good way to ask for trouble.

Besides, just because he _could_ help her didn't mean that he would.

Surprisingly, instead of snapping his fingers and zapping her off to only-God-knows-where for yet another round of unimaginable torment, the angel merely titled his head to the side and stared at her unblinkingly for a moment before he smirked.

"Huh. Interesting." A single eyebrow rose, and the self-satisfied smirk took on a genuinely curious twist as Gabriel stared at her intently for several seconds. Just when Jesse was about to ask why he didn't just go ahead and take a stupid picture, 'cause it would last longer, the angel frowned slightly. "Okay, I have to ask. Why are the muttonheads dragging you along with them?"

The woman bristled slightly at the question, but refused to show it much more than beyond the definite narrowing of her eyes as she pressed her lips together in a decidedly annoyed fashion. Ah, now they were going into territory that she really did not even want to think about visiting, not even on a tourist visa.

"I don't know," she pointed out grudgingly. "But I don't want to be dragged around by them anymore than I want you stalking me."

Gabriel didn't even have the decency to look ashamed by her pointed remark as he clutched at his heart dramatically. "You wound me with your accusations! Besides, angel, remember? We don't stalk."

Jesse gave a disbelieving snort as she shot the archangel a look that quite clearly said 'you are so full of shit that it's squirting out your ears'.

"Uh-huh, right. And watching people sleep isn't creepy at all." She gave the older male a thin smile that was in no way amused as she cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "I know you guys have the whole 'phenomenal, cosmic powers, itty-bitty living space' thing going, but where I'm from, if you follow a girl around when she wants you to hit the road, well… let's just say that usually entitles her dad or brother to give you a warm reception with both barrels of a shotgun. Or a Glock .45. My dad has both, so he and my brother might just decide to double-team you."

"Bullets won't kill me."

The woman gave him a smile that was all teeth in response. "No, but I'm pretty sure that they still hurt like hell."

For probably the first time since she'd actually met him, Gabriel fell silent as he gave her an appropriately wary look. It was a wonderful feeling to realize that she had just shocked the world's most talkative archangel into stunned silence. It was something slightly akin to the feeling that she'd had during senior prom – with her hair styled and actually wearing makeup, as well as dressed in a beautiful gown that she still had hanging in the back of her small closet in her room at home – when she'd shown up and no one'd had a clue who she was until she talked to someone, although in this situation it was tempered by the knowledge that it most likely wouldn't last very long, and she would definitely pay for forcing such an indignity upon Gabriel.

Surprisingly, the angel didn't snap his fingers and wreak horrible vengeance upon her. Instead, he just cocked his head to the side and stared at her intently.

"You do realize that those boys will do their damndest to wring information out of you, and then when they find out that you know more than they want you to, they'll stick you with one of their hunting buddies to keep you out of the way and 'safe'," he suddenly pointed out. Jesse straightened up and blinked in evident surprise. Okay, he was being uncharacteristically helpful right there, which set off all sorts of little alarms in her head. "I know that you say you're only a little bit precognizant, but you probably know more than what they're comfortable with."

Jesse carefully schooled a neutral expression as she crossed her arms over her chest and quirked an eyebrow. "So?"

He was up to something here. If he wasn't, well… she'd be expecting to see some airborne bacon pretty soon.

"I could fix it, give you a running head start," Gabriel finally offered with a conspiratorial grin. The only response he received was a flat stare, coupled with a disbelieving snort.

"What's the catch?"

The angel tried to look nonchalant as he shrugged. Jesse cocked a questioning eyebrow, her gaze sharpening as she tilted her head to the side. After a few seconds realization finally hit her upside the head and she immediately backpedaled away from Gabriel.

"No, no, no way in _hell_," she growled as she gave the archangel a glare that would have melted metal, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Okay, let me spell this out for you, since you're obviously having problems thinking straight. I don't know _**anything**_, okay? I have no knowledge of what is to come, I don't know all of your deepest, darkest secrets, and I don't know the way to Candy Mountain. And for the record, the day I trust you is the day that there's a snowball fight in Hell."

"You don't trust me?" Gabriel asked, an expression of mock hurt stamped across his face. "That cuts real deep, it really does. I mean, aren't you supposed to have faith in archangels?" He canted his head to the side, clearly indicating to the cross she wore around her neck as her gave her a wicked grin. "That's what your faith dictates, right?"

Brown eyes widened in pained shock before she reacted without even thinking. The palm of her hand collided with Gabriel's cheek with a resounding 'crack', and the woman didn't even flinch at the pain that followed even as she shook her hand out. The faux Trickster gaped at her openly as Jesse bared her teeth in a silent snarl and fixed the arrogant feathered windbag with one of her dad's patented 'I-may-not-look-like-I'm-threantening-you-but-you-keep-talking-and-you'll-wake-up-in-a-shallow-grave' looks that was typically reserved for whenever she brought a boy home. Granted, she wasn't nearly as good as her dad was at scaring people shitless, but it helped, a little.

"Don't _ever_ assume that you know me," she snarled, her entire body trembling with outrage. "You don't know squat about me, got it?"

She didn't need a lecture on religion from a renegade archangel who'd run away from home. There was only so much hypocrisy that she could take before she lost it. She had faith all right, hell, she wanted to have faith and to keep that faith. It was hard though. And this stupid little jaunt through Prime-Time TV was hardly doing wonders for her stance on her personal beliefs. She had no problem with God, but she did have a serious issue with the men that represented Him.

For a second Gabriel looked offended by the fact that he had just been slapped, before he shrugged it off as he shook his head and waggled his eyebrows in that way that Jesse was truly beginning to loathe. "So, I'll take that as a no on the trust bit."

Oh, she was going to kill him. She was going to deep-fry his sorry, arrogant ass in a vat of holy oil right in the middle of the bloody _Vatican_.

"Trust you?" Jesse bit out incredulously. "Has all of that candy rotted your brain? Why the hell would I trust someone who killed me twenty-one times, all because of the fact I accidentally used a nickname I call my brother when he's being annoying?" She straightened up and glared at Gabriel. "I don't give a rat's ass if you're an archangel or God himself! You're still a dick! So no, I don't trust you."

Gabriel blinked as he stared at her for a second before he shook his head and raised his eyebrows in slight confusion.

"You call your brother Flyboy?" he asked curiously, completely disregarding the rest of Jesse's angry rant. The woman twitched.

"Out of everything that I said, _that's_ what you picked up?" she finally said tightly, and Gabriel flashed her what he obviously though was a winning smile. Jesse gritted her teeth, and forced herself to remember that visualizing shooting the man in the face was not polite, nor would it solve anything, even as she facepalmed with deep feeling. "He's in the Air Force."

"Ah."

When the archangel – who, might she also add, had the emotional maturity of a three-year-old – didn't say anything else, Jesse took that as a sign that she could go. She did not want or need to hand around this jackass any longer than strictly necessary. The overly cynical part of her mind decided to point out at that moment that she should have just kicked him in the family jewels the second he had grabbed her and made a run for it. What had possibly possessed her to listen to the jerk anyways? Maybe her dad was right; she was too polite sometimes.

"You're a hard one to figure out."

Jesse stopped in her tracks and turned around slightly to stare at Gabriel at that one, although part of her was secretly amused by the comment. A very small part. Like microscopically small. That right there was Male for '_You confuse the hell outta me'_, and had been an echoed sentiment from pretty much all of the guys she'd dated/been friends with. Carol was her best friend, and while she had a better understanding than most of how her warped mind worked, sometimes even she would get confused. Heck, her mom and dad had a hard time figuring her out sometimes, and they had raised her for the past twenty-two years. The only reason her dad understood her so well was because he spent the most time with her. So the fact that she confused the hell out of an archangel was a good thing. It meant that he wasn't nearly as good at being a know-it-all douchebag as he liked to think. What she didn't get was why he was smiling about it.

Oh crap, he was smiling about it. Not good, not good, so very not good. Dammit, she needed holy oil or something to deal with this guy. Maybe even the angelic version of Raid. Jesse silently wished that someone sold Holy Oil Molotov's pre-made, 'cause she needed them in bulk to deal all of the angels that seemed to be coming out of the woodwork.

"So I've been told," Jesse quipped as she plastered a cheery smile on her face. She couldn't show fear, not to him; it was the same as when dealing with small children. "Greater men than you have tried and failed."

Gabriel paused for a second, his expression carefully blank, as he stared at her. The woman immediately scooted a little further away, eyes widening as she realized that she may have just jabbed the sleeping dragon in the eye with a red-hot poker. And then, from literally out of nowhere, Gabriel flashed her a wicked smirk that made her want to run for the hills right then and there.

"Well maybe I'll just have to try harder then," he said as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Okay, add in sheer, gut-wrenching terror to the 'run for the hills' plan. It was amazing how one man could make her want to run like hell until she hit the closest 'No Fly' zone one moment, yet find amusement in her smartass comments. Now _that_ right there was scary. No one ever got her sense of humor, _ever_. If she ever got out of this alive, she was definitely seeing a shrink, dislike of someone messing around with her head be _damned_.

Before Jesse could offer up a suitable retort – hell, before she could coax her brain out of the loop of 'what the _fuck_?' that it was currently stuck on – Gabriel smirked knowingly at her and disappeared. No further comments, no death threats, no promises that he'd be watching her every move. He just… disappeared.

The woman blinked, stared at the spot he'd occupied not even five seconds previously for a long time, and then buried her head in her hands with a loud groan.

"Oh dear God, I'm going to die. I am going to die here in this horrible apocalyptic cock-up of a world, and my family will never find the body," she muttered as she dragged a hand down her face in aggravation before she stared up at the night sky accusingly. "You're just laughing your ass off over this up there, aren't you?"

God did not deign to gift her with a response, not that she expected one, and Jesse muttered something under her breath that was far from polite with a huff of aggravation as she looked back over at the hotel. Common sense dictated that she stay the hell away from said building until the day that it was razed to the ground with a very special sort of fire consisting of rock salt and diesel fuel. Yes, diesel fuel, not lighter fluid, because as any idiot who took high school chemistry could tell you, diesel fuel burned hotter and faster than lighter fluid.

Although… Jesse blinked in surprise as an idea hit her, and she carefully looked around at her surroundings before she allowed a small smile to cross her face. She was all alone out there, with no one to stop her if she decided to run. The grin faltered however when she remembered the fact that Chuck had promised to help her. Yeah, she was a coward, there was no denying that, but she wasn't going to just up and leave the prophet even after he had promised to help her find a way home. Even though she still wanted to get as far away from the Winchesters as physically possible, she couldn't do it, not for now.

"Allons-y," she whispered quietly into the chilly night air as she jammed her hands into her jacket pockets and reluctantly headed back towards the hotel.

Fiction was easy, it really was. With fiction, you always knew what to do, what the right thing was. Reality was hard. And when fiction became reality, well, then it just became impossible.

* * *

Somehow, the Winchesters managed to save the day, although Jesse wasn't exactly sure how. All she knew was that they had somehow managed to get someone – apparently a couple of the guys who had been role-playing as them – outside of the hotel before the psycho ghost kids sealed everything off, which had ironically taken place while she was stuck outside with Gabriel, and they had burned the bones of said children before they killed anyone – Chuck's words, not hers. So now she was currently perched somewhat precariously on the wooden railing of the hotel's front porch, torn between watching Sam's very awkward conversation with Becky – something about a monkey in the sun, or some garbage like that from what she could hear – and Dean's equally awkward and disconcerting conversation with the two guys they had teamed up with to torch the ghosts.

Personally, Jesse was insanely thankful that she had managed to avoid the whole fiasco, even if it had meant being grilled by Gabriel. Not dying was always a plus, especially when it came to this cocked-up excuse of a reality. And no one was really paying any attention to her right now, completely disregarding the 'kid' in Converse, dirty jeans with a hole in one knee – a result of her adventures the previous night – and a slightly-too-large blue and white flannel button-up on under a tan corduroy jacket, perched on the deck railing and aimlessly swinging her legs back and forth. Having people underestimate you was always a good thing.

Now, if she could just go home, then life would be absolutely perfect.

"Hey Jesse!"

The woman in question jerked in surprise, wobbled precariously on her perch, and almost fell into the bushes underneath the railing as she looked sharply over at Chuck with wide eyes. Okay, she had been spacing out a little, but there was no need for him to scare the crap out of her like that. The prophet made a 'come here' gesture, and Jesse rolled her eyes before she swung her legs over the rail and hopped down onto the porch easily, trotting down the stairs to the parking lot with the practiced ease of someone who had spent the past few years attending classes in a multi-storied building. When she walked up to Chuck, however, she immediately noticed the slightly confused and disturbed stares that both of the Winchesters were giving her.

Okay, what the hell? She knew that she wasn't exactly on their friends list, but there was no reason for them to stare at her like she… Jesse's train of thought derailed when she glanced over at Chuck curiously, and took in the guilt-stricken expression on his face even as he bounced nervously on the balls of his feet. The woman frowned as she cocked a questioning eyebrow. What the heck… it almost looked like he really needed the bathroom…

Suddenly, everything fell into place in front of her, and Jesse blanched.

Oh no, he didn't. Please dear God, please tell her that he hadn't.

"What did you do?" she demanded as she rounded on the prophet, one hand snapping out to seize the little man by the front of his jacket. "What did you tell them?"

Fear flooded through her as she shook Chuck in an attempt to physically jar the answers from him, surprising all three men with her frantic show of strength before Sam stepped in and gently pried her away from the prophet.

"I can understand that you're scared," he told her kindly as he gripped her shoulders and forced her to take a few steps away from the clearly nervous Chuck. "You don't know what to do, you suddenly have these weird abilities that don't make sense… believe me, I've been there. But don't take it out on him, okay?"

Jesse stared uncomprehendingly at the hunter for several seconds before it clicked. Chuck had told them that she knew snippets of the future, that she was like how Sam had been when he was one of Azazel's Special Children. A shudder immediately went through her at the mere thought, and Jesse stared at the prophet incredulously. Chuck seemed to guess what she was thinking, because he at least had the decency to look ashamed as he averted his attention over to Dean.

"She's not like the Special Children Azazel created," the man clarified, and Dean immediately scowled at the demon's name. "But she does have information that both Heaven and Hell would probably kill to get."

"Great, just what we need, another creepy stalker prophet," the hunter commented sarcastically as he crossed his arms over his chest. Said comment immediately sent Chuck into paroxysms of frustration as he attempted to correct Dean on the fact that no, Jesse was not a prophet, but yes she did have access to some of the same information that he did. Meanwhile, Jesse just stood rooted to her spot as her stunned mind numbly attempted to process the information that she'd just been given.

He told them. He had said he'd help her, and instead he just lied.

"You _promised_!" Jesse sputtered as she stared at the prophet in complete and utter betrayal, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. "You said that you'd help!"

Chuck didn't even look her in the eyes as he spoke. "I also told you that the Winchesters could probably help you more than I can."

It was at that point that her mind just shut down. Jesse couldn't believe what she was hearing, couldn't even begin to comprehend what it meant for her. It was right then that her coping mechanism stopped coping, handed its keys back in and asked for a refund, please, because it did _not_ sign up for this shit. She may or may not have tried to imbed her fist in the scruffy little prophet's face, at least until someone seized her firmly by the shoulders and pulled her away. When Jesse finally came back to herself enough that she was actually aware of her surroundings, she found that she was seated in the backseat of the Impala, with a very awkward-looking Sam staring back at her from the front passenger seat. Dean wasn't there in the car with them, not that she really cared about it at that moment.

"You okay?" Sam asked after a moment of heavy silence, and Jesse stared at him numbly, brown eyes wide and staring ahead sightlessly as she breathed shakily before she pulled her legs up to her chest – this time she didn't give a flying crap about what Dean would say about her feet on the seats – and buried her face in the rough and dirty denim of the jeans she had been wearing when she had first arrived in this messed-up reality. It was just too much for her, it really was. She didn't have any control over her life now, not when the Winchesters knew for certain that she had information that they might want or need. She didn't know if she would ever be able to go home… she might never see her family again.

Jesse burst into tears at that particular realization. The woman ignored the startled expression on Sam's face as he watched her wrap her arms around her legs and pull them closer to her chest as she sobbed. She wanted to go home! She didn't want this, any of this. Who cared if there were people who would kill to be in her position, to be something of value to the Winchesters? They could have it!

She was a person, not a tool! She didn't want to have anything to do with hunting, with stopping the Apocalypse. All she wanted was to go home.

* * *

The next few days were incredibly awkward, to say the least. Actually, to be honest, when she looked back on it Jesse didn't really remember too much of the days after the fiasco at the hotel in Ohio. When she wasn't sleeping – propped up against the door in the Impala's backseat or on a couch in some no-tell motel room – she was in a kind of stunned daze. Oh, she could still interact with people in a semi-normal manner when she needed to, but she didn't remember it afterwards.

After close to three days of her being stuck in 'zombie mode', apparently certain individuals got tired of it.

Which, of course, was why she suddenly jerked upright in the booth at some little diner on the side of the road, coughing and sputtering as cold water dripped down her face. Across the table, Dean gave her a considering look as he set his noticeably empty water glass down even as Jesse reached up and wiped the water from her face. The woman looked at the elder Winchester flatly while Sam glanced in between them curiously.

"Chill it with the zombie act, okay?" Dean finally said gruffly. "You're starting to creep people out."

Jesse blinked as she stared wordlessly at the hunter, briefly glancing over at Sam, before she tilted her head to the side. For several seconds she didn't say anything. She was _pissed_. Granted, she had been in shock for the past few days, a countless stream of 'what ifs' swirling around in her head even as she numbly tried to comprehend just where she'd gone wrong, but Dean had just done her a big favor by trying to antagonize her. Anger was good, anger helped burn away the thick fog of disbelief that had clouded her brain, helped her focus a bit.

Besides, feeling sorry for herself would accomplish nothing, except for maybe an emotional meltdown in the not-too-distant future.

"I'm starting to creep people out?" Jesse asked quietly, her expression carefully blank. "Or I'm starting to creep _you_ out?"

The hunter didn't as much as twitch as he stared back at her intently. She gave a soft, bitter huff as she shook her head and closed her eyes, a pained, annoyed grimace crossing her face before she slowly looked up at the two men.

"Oh I see how it is. You listen to me, you arrogant _dick_," she hissed as she leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing as she gave the bothers a look that would have melted steel. She didn't care if Sam had played 'good cop' to Dean's 'insensitive asshole' for the past few days; he was still a part of this, he had still opted to just drag her off to God only knew where instead of actually treating her like a freaking human being. "I am a **person**, a living, breathing human being, who, might I add, has a family who is probably worried sick about me. You have no right to just whisk me away and not tell me anything."

"We're trying to save your life-" Sam began, and Jesse immediately cut him off with a murderous glare as she gripped the side of the table until her knuckles went white.

"No you're not! You don't know for sure that that Heaven and Hell are looking for me! In fact, judging from personal experience, I'm fairly certain that they don't give a flying crap about the fact I even exist. You're just assuming that because I _might_ have knowledge about the future, that I'm in some kind of horrible danger." She glanced in between the brothers, and her jaw clenched tightly as a nervous tic developed by her right eye. "Or that I'm a threat."

If the suddenly awkward expression on the Winchesters faces was any indication, she had just hit the nail right on the head. It wasn't a good feeling to know that she was right. To be honest, it actually made her feel like she wanted to be sick.

The woman sighed as she sagged down into her seat, suddenly exhausted beyond all belief. Her little temper tantrum had cost her, especially after being emotionally numb for the past few days. When had she actually had a decent meal, or slept in an actual bed like a normal person? She couldn't remember. Jesse felt her chest clench painfully as she realized that the last time anything had been even remotely normal by her standards was on September 19th, back when she had still been in her world; Sunday night, when she'd been able to plop down on the couch next to her mom and dad with her dinner in hand as they all watched a movie, with Andy making comments from his spot on the floor. Her angry expression collapsed before she clamped her mouth shut and lowered her head so that her bangs fell into her face as she stared fixedly at the crappy-looking false wood tabletop.

She couldn't do this, she just couldn't. Right now, she hated the two men in front of her, hated them for making her feel like this, like she had no control over her life anymore. Normally, if she had ever met them, she probably would have tried to make friends. The Winchesters she had watched on TV for the past two years had been, well, fantastic was probably the best word for it. She had enjoyed their humor, and Carol had once jokingly suggested that the boys would fit right in with her family just from how they acted. But now… right now she didn't want anything to do with them.

Talk about ironic.

"Aaand we're back to zombie mode," Dean drawled as he made a casual gesture in Jesse's direction. The woman glanced over at him before she emotionlessly flipped him the bird.

"Go screw yourself, Winchester," she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest and slouched down in her seat. "Cocky son of a bitch…" Jesse's voice cracked slightly on the insult before she looked out the window at the afternoon sunlight that fell on the cars out in the diner parking lot and shut herself off from everything else once again.

The hunter raised his eyebrows at her softly spoken acidic comment, but refrained from retorting with any smart-ass remarks of his own when he caught sight of the warning look that Sam shot him. Right now, if they kept pushing things, it might just make things worse.

The big question was though, worse for who?

* * *

Hello all… As you can see, life has not been going well for Jesse, and she kind of had an emotional meltdown. Gabriel's hounding her, and Chuck kind of lied. Yeah, life sucks for her.

According to Belarus, the convention in LA was fantastic, and she got to meet Richard Speight Jr, Mark Sheppherd (Crowley), Jim Beaver, Tracey Dinwoodie, and Jared Padaleki. She took a crapload of photos (some of which might end up on my Deviant Art page), and apparently went by the name of Jesse Harper while she was there. (Facepalms) I never should have told her that Jesse was based off of her, never. She's one of my best friends, and I love her dearly, but I swear that girl will one day drive me to drink. Anyways, I guess she met some of the fans who read this story and wanted to get in touch.

Translation: she flipped when she got home and realized that she hadn't asked for their e-mail addresses.

Sam and Grace, if you guys are reading this and want to get in touch with 'Jesse', her e-mail is theshinsengumisshadow (at) yahoo (dot) com. Grace, thank you for the picture (yes, she showed it to me), it is fantastic, and I'll be putting it up on my page sometime soon one I get the chance to scan it.

And now, on to the reviews!

Many thanks to all of you who have read, favorited, alerted, or reviewed this story. And thank you FancyJumper, AuntMo, dark-half-angel-14, Time and Fate, Aria DeLoncray, Sleeping Aryll, PerfectlyImperfect – EmMandC, JinxedCobra, gabefan, LiveALittleDarlin, and Amber Nickel.


	9. Chapter 9: Not A Game

_So far away from knowing where I am going  
I am trying hard to find out who I am  
They all see that I don't know what I am doing  
I say they don't hardly understand_

_Why can't they remember_  
_What I will never forget_  
_How these dreams come undone_  
_When you're young_

_You give what you give cause they make you_  
_Trapped inside a place that won't take you_  
_And they want you to be what they make you_  
_It's already over and done_  
_When you're young_

-"When You're Young" by **3 Doors Down**

"Here's where I ask why you don't spend your time doing something safer and more boring. Like maybe administering suppositories to rabid gorillas." – Bob the Skull, _Summer Knight_

**Chapter Nine:**

**Not A Game**

**Then:**

"_We're trying to save your life-" Sam began, and Jesse immediately cut him off with a murderous glare as she gripped the side of the table until her knuckles went white._

"_No you're not! You don't know for sure that that Heaven and Hell are looking for me! In fact, judging from personal experience, I'm fairly certain that they don't give a flying crap about the fact I even exist. You're just assuming that because I __**might**__ have knowledge about the future, that I'm in some kind of horrible danger." She glanced in between the brothers, and her jaw clenched tightly as a nervous tic developed by her right eye. "Or that I'm a threat."_

_If the suddenly awkward expression on the Winchesters faces was any indication, she had just hit the nail right on the head. It wasn't a good feeling to know that she was right. To be honest, it actually made her feel like she wanted to be sick._

_The woman sighed as she sagged down into her seat, suddenly exhausted beyond all belief. Her little temper tantrum had cost her, especially after being emotionally numb for the past few days. When had she actually had a decent meal, or slept in an actual bed like a normal person? She couldn't remember. Jesse felt her chest clench painfully as she realized that the last time anything had been even remotely normal by her standards was on September 19__th__, back when she had still been in her world; Sunday night, when she'd been able to plop down on the couch next to her mom and dad with her dinner in hand as they all watched a movie, with Andy making comments from his spot on the floor. Her angry expression collapsed before she clamped her mouth shut and lowered her head so that her bangs fell into her face as she stared fixedly at the crappy-looking false wood tabletop._

_She couldn't do this, she just couldn't. Right now, she hated the two men in front of her, hated them for making her feel like this, like she had no control over her life anymore. Normally, if she had ever met them, she probably would have tried to make friends. The Winchesters she had watched on TV for the past two years had been, well, fantastic was probably the best word for it. She had enjoyed their humor, and Carol had once jokingly suggested that the boys would fit right in with her family just from how they acted. But now… right now she didn't want anything to do with them._

_Talk about ironic._

"_Aaand we're back to zombie mode," Dean drawled as he made a casual gesture in Jesse's direction. The woman glanced over at him before she emotionlessly flipped him the bird._

"_Go screw yourself, Winchester," she muttered as she crossed her arms over her chest and slouched down in her seat. "Cocky son of a bitch…" Jesse's voice cracked slightly on the insult before she looked out the window at the afternoon sunlight that fell on the cars out in the diner parking lot and shut herself off from everything else once again._

_The hunter raised his eyebrows at her softly spoken acidic comment, but refrained from retorting with any smart-ass remarks of his own when he caught sight of the warning look that Sam shot him. Right now, if they kept pushing things, it might just make things worse._

_The big question was though, worse for who?_

**Now:**

Jesse hadn't known anything about the Winchester's intended destination until she caught sight of the sign posted over a dirt driveway that Dean had just turned into.

Needless to say, her subsequent reaction caused Dean to immediately engage the child-proof locks. Granted, throwing herself from a moving vehicle probably wasn't her smartest idea, but it had been the only thing she could think of beyond the automatic 'oh holy shit' that had crossed her mind the second she had spotted the sign to Singer Salvage. In her panic to get out of the Impala, Jesse had actually bounced off the door as she scrambled for the handle a split second after Dean successfully triggered the child-proof lock.

Then again, saying "Oh _fuck_" and then lunging for the car door hadn't exactly been subtle.

"Are you some special kind of crazy or something?" Dean demanded irritably over his shoulder as Jesse lay sprawled dazedly in the backseat, her entire face smarting something horrible as she tried to comprehend something other than 'ouch' and 'that was a really bad idea'. "I mean, who actually tries to jump out of a moving car?"

"Me," the woman croaked as she rolled over on her side and winced visibly before she put a hand to her forehead. A derisive snort echoed from the front passenger seat, and Jesse gave Sam a decidedly cranky look before she pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing as she did so.

"Out of all your escape attempts so far, I think that had to be the most random and poorly thought out one," the taller man pointed out. Jesse let out a short laugh as she cocked a disbelieving eyebrow before she shook her head.

"If you think that was random, then you guys really don't know me," she corrected with a roll of her eyes, and then bared her teeth in a humorless grin as she fixed the Winchesters with an appropriately scathing glare. "Oh, wait, you don't. Never mind."

Dean sighed as he kept his gaze fixed on the dirt road ahead of him. "Are you always this much of a pain?"

"Only when someone's dumb enough to kidnap me."

The eldest Winchester deigned not to comment on her rather pointed remark even as he pulled up in front of a house that Jesse recognized all too well. She scowled faintly as she sunk down in her seat and tried to appear smaller than she actually was. Somehow, she highly doubted that the stupid kid act would fly very well with Bobby Singer, much less the kind of attitude that she'd been giving the Winchesters so far. Besides, he hadn't even done anything to her yet, so it wasn't fair of her to decide to be difficult right off the bat.

She still wasn't going to tell anyone how she knew anything about the Winchesters or the Apocalypse though.

As much as Jesse would have loved to delude herself into believing that nothing could surprise her now after everything that she'd been though in past week and a half, she was visibly stunned when Bobby Singer wheeled himself out onto his front porch. She'd heard that Bobby had ended up in a wheelchair sometime during the 5th season, but hearing about something going on in a TV show and seeing it in real life was a whole hell of a lot different. The sudden leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn't exactly welcome either.

Dean turned off the engine before he and Sam exited the vehicle, leaving Jesse sitting numbly in the backseat. She briefly glanced over at the grizzled hunter sitting on the front porch before she slid down in her seat, silently wishing that she could just disappear even as Bobby stared back at her for a split second before he rounded on the boys. She wished that the Impala was soundproof, she really did. At least then she wouldn't be able to hear the truly epic argument that ensued.

"What the devil- Is this what you meant when you boys said that you found something? You idjits, she's just a _kid_!"

If it was at all possible, Jesse sank even lower in her seat before she reached into her backpack, pulled out her headphones, and clapped them over her ears with a bit more force than necessary. She quickly flicked on the MP3 player and selected something with a heavy beat as she tried to block out the rest of the world. In a little bit she'd have to face all of the questions, the demands, everything. In just a little while, she'd have to deal with all of the hostile glares as she tried to protect her secrets.

The woman made a soft noise as she buried her face in her hands and for the first time in several days, felt like she was on the verge of tears. She didn't want any of this, she really didn't. Unfortunately, her only option really was to keep quiet as best she could. She had no idea what could possibly happen if she revealed anything that she knew about what might happen in the future, even if she only had a vague concept of what might lie ahead. The only thing that she really had to go on was the fact that it would most likely end badly.

Jesse was so focused on steeling herself for the next round of interrogation that she didn't notice Sam pop open the door on her side before he gave her a questioning look. It took a few seconds for her to realize that she was being observed, and when she did the woman quickly lowered her headphones and stared at the younger Winchester. After the silent staring contest had progressed for several long moments, Sam finally let out a sigh as he gave Jesse a pointed look.

"Bobby wants to talk to you," he said, and the woman made a faint noise of confusion in the back of her throat as she titled her head to the side slightly.

"Okaaay… why?"

Sam sighed as he gave Jesse a weary look before he took a step back to allow the woman room to get out of the Impala. "You know why."

Jesse grimaced as she leaned forward, screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose in obvious aggravation. Dammit, they were back to this already. She did not want or need any of this, she really didn't.

"How many times I am gonna have to tell you guys that I'm _not_ a damn psychic?" she grumbled as she removed her hand from her face and gave the taller Winchester an exhausted glance. She was tired in more ways than one, physically and mentally, and all she wanted was for people to stop either glaring at her like she was the root of all evil or giving her these weird pitying looks. She really wanted to just wake up from this damn nightmare, but she knew right now that she had just about as much of a chance of that occurring as she did winning the freaking lottery.

"Jesse…" Sam said almost reprovingly, and the woman whipped around to stare at him in surprise.

"Holy 'effing shit, you actually remember my name," she retorted, sarcasm lacing her voice as she gave the older man a withering look. "For a while there, I was beginning to think that my parents had named me 'Hey, you' or something."

Now Jesse had heard people make references to Sam's various faces, such as the famed Puppy-Dog Eyes, and the annoyed, warped scowl with a name that she didn't dare even acknowledge, even within the corners of her mind. She knew that if she did, she'd probably start laughing her ass off and never stop. But now… now she was actually seeing it with her own two eyes. And, well, disturbing was probably the best word she could think of to describe it without being too rude.

The bitchface had arrived, ladies and gentlemen.

Jesse immediately decided that getting the wonderful interrogation out of the way was probably a better idea than stalling for as long as possible, because at least being vague wouldn't piss people off nearly as much as trying to stall when they knew she was avoiding the subject. Without a single word, the woman seized her backpack and quickly slipped out of the Impala before Sam could say anything about why she should tell all of her secrets. As she schooled her face into a neutral mask and started to walk up to the front porch of Singer Salvage with her backpack dangling off one shoulder, Jesse silently wondered if she was really doing the right thing here. If she told Bobby what had happened, maybe he could help…

The woman immediately stopped that thought in its tracks with a violent shake of her head, fingernails digging deep into the palm of the hand not gripping her backpack strap. There was no way that she'd trust anyone with the truth about who she was and where she was from. She'd told Chuck the truth and look where it had landed her.

Knee-deep in shit, that's where.

She stopped short in front of the worn wooden floorboards that made up Bobby's front porch, shifting from foot to foot uncertainly in front of the grizzled hunter. Jesse ducked her head and stared down at the dirt-smeared toes of her shoes instead of at Bobby's face. She didn't want to look up at the man and have him see past everything that she was trying to hide behind.

"How old are you?"

The question caught Jesse off-guard as she looked up at the older man with wide eyes before she cracked a somewhat sheepish grin. Okay, that was a question she could answer without feeling guilty, or lying.

"Twenty-two," she offered with a slight shrug of her shoulders, and smiled hesitantly at the disbelieving cast that the hunter's face took on as he stared at her intently. "Ah, yeah, I get that a lot. But seriously, I'm twenty-two."

A single graying eyebrow rose upwards as Bobby fixed the woman with a strange look, and Jesse's smile crumpled visibly as she tightened her grip on her backpack strap. Two weeks ago, if someone had asked her about how she would have dealt with this kind of situation, she would have very politely inquired if they were off their meds. Then again, two weeks ago her self-confidence and sense of safety hadn't taken one hell of a battering. Anyone who thought that they could just shut themselves off from the world and not be affected by it was out of their mind. And she wasn't even going to touch the general state of her faith right now.

Just… actually meeting an angel… not nearly as cool as she had thought it would be when she was a kid.

Bobby glanced on between her, and then over at the brothers, before he let out a long, weary sigh as he reached up and scrubbed at his face wearily. The older man maneuvered his wheelchair aside so that the way to the door was clear and then shot the Winchesters a meaningful look.

"Get your asses inside, idjits," he finally muttered as he stiffly wheeled himself inside. "Not having this discussion outside."

Jesse hesitated for a moment before someone gently placed a hand on the small of her back and propelled her forward. The woman made a soft noise of surprise as she sharply glanced over at Sam, who gave a sharp nod in the direction of the house. She grimaced, but slowly trudged up the weathered front steps to the door. For one moment, she ignored the two men behind her as she stared at the doorway apprehensively, sucked in a low, shaky breath, and stepped inside.

Somehow, she got the feeling that there was no going back from this now.

* * *

Arguments.

It didn't' matter who they were in between, who was doing all of the shouting, who was angry, or why. Jesse hated arguments. God only knew how many she'd had to stop between Andy and her mother, and that was only on the occasions that she'd been lucky enough to catch them before things got too bad. Unfortunately, most of the time things escalated too fast for her to even think of interfering, much less stop what would quickly become a shouting match in its tracks. Things had been better before she had left though, a lot better than two years ago.

Either way, she still hated the sick feeling that welled up in her stomach whenever voices were raised around her. Especially when those same voices used her name in snatches of harried conversation, a conversation that she could only catch bits and pieces of.

"-Jesse, Chuck thinks she's some kind of-"

"Dammit boy, but why-"

"- know, but she knew us, knew about the Apocalypse-"

The woman let out a heartfelt groan as she sank down into a threadbare old couch in one corner of the living room – stacked so full of books and ancient tomes that there was barely any free space on the desk or the floors around the bookcases – and buried her face in her hands. Normally, the mere thought of getting the opportunity to raid Bobby's library would have resulted in a truly spectacular goofy grin of sheer enthusiasm. Now however, the concept of paging through one of the many books of lore made Jesse feel more than a little nauseous. Because the second she looked at them and realized that they were really there, that made everything _real_.

And right now, reality was definitely _not_ her friend.

"I hate my life," Jesse finally muttered as she reached up and dragged a hand through her bangs. "I really, really hate my life."

She needed to get away, if only for a little bit. Just somewhere private where she could very quietly freak out over the fact that she was so screwed it wasn't even funny. Going outside was completely out of the question, especially since she didn't really want to have the Winchesters think that she was trying to make a run for it again. Okay, bathroom it was then.

Jesse stiffly got to her feet, leaving her backpack on the floor by the couch as a sign that she wasn't about to try and escape once again, before she reluctantly walked over towards the staircase leading up to the second floor of the house. She wasn't too sure, but she thought that there might be a bathroom somewhere upstairs. Besides, she wouldn't be gone too long.

Wordlessly, the woman ascended the stairs, and felt a faint chill go through her as she stepped into a hallway that she distinctly recognized. This was the same place where Meg Master's ghost had materialized in the fourth season, which meant that for the Winchesters and Bobby the Rising of the Witnesses had taken place just over a year ago. A full-body shudder went through her even as Jesse sucked in a steadying breath, set her jaw stubbornly, and strode down the hallway, her eyes flicking over to every door intermittently until she found the bathroom.

She quickly entered and shut the door behind her before she planted her hands on the cool porcelain countertop and sagged visibly in defeat. She couldn't do this, she just couldn't. A strangled sob welled up in the young woman's throat as angry, frightened tears stung her eyes and she completely refused to look at her reflection. At that moment, she didn't think that she could stand staring at the person looking back out at her, not without screaming in frustration. She didn't want this, any of it! And the worst part was running away didn't do a damn thing to help. Every single time that she tried to escape all of this God-awful crap, it just seemed to boomerang right on back and smack her right upside the head.

"God, I can't do this," she whispered hoarsely as tears started to drip down her face, her breath catching as she tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to burst from her chest. "Please help me. Please. I don't know if you're listening, or if you even care, but I need help." Jesse clapped a hand over her mouth as she began to cry even harder, feeling slightly sick. She'd never needed guidance more than she did right now – and she was desperate enough to pray for it. "_Please_."

There was no answer – not that she really expected one – and the woman leaned heavily against the counter, her hair screening her face as she struggled against the feeling of despair that washed through her. It was just like five years ago. God didn't give a rat's ass about her, or anyone else, and the worst part was the fact that here the sentiment was _true_. Back home, she had at least been able to believe that God loved everyone, that He forgave people, that He watched over them. Here, though, she knew that he had just disappeared, and that there was no way that he was going to put in an appearance.

Silence filled the little room as its sole occupant stared down at the tiled floor unseeingly and tried not to hyperventilate from a combination of terror, despair, and frustration.

Before Jesse could flip out any further, there was an inarticulate roar somewhere from the first floor of the house. The woman flinched in response. Apparently her disappearance had been noticed, and certain parties were clearly unhappy. She grimaced as she quickly splashed some cold water on her face before she scrubbed her face dry with the sleeve of her jacket. Oh, this was just gonna be a real barrel of fun.

She sighed as she reluctantly exited the bathroom and began to head downstairs. As she slowly descended the steps, she could hear the furious shouting actually form into legitimate words.

"- I swear, when I get my hands on her-"

"You'll what?" Jesse asked wearily as she stepped into the living room and leaned against the closest wall, crossing her arms over her chest even as she stared at Dean tiredly. "Shoot me?"

"No," Sam immediately responded as he gave his brother a warning look. "No one's going to shoot you."

The woman cocked a disbelieving eyebrow, but said nothing as she straightened up and headed back over to the couch, where she gracelessly plopped down on the abused cushions and stared up at the two men. Sam and Dean exchanged twin bewildered looks even as Bobby wheeled himself up behind them, and immediately fixed Jesse with a look that made her remember the very familiar line of _"Don't try to con a con man"_.

Uh, yeah, lying sounded like a very bad idea.

"Then what are you gonna do?" she asked flatly as she looked in between the three hunters. "'Cause I'll be the first one to tell you guys, no I am not a psychic, a seer, prophet, or anything else that could possibly know the future." Jesse flashed them all a very bitter smirk as she crossed her arms over her chest and let out a soft sigh. "No phenomenal, cosmic powers, nothing, okay? Well, except for the very strong urge to run like hell and not stop until I keel over from exhaustion. So, in short, I'm pretty much useless to you guys."

Bobby gave her a stern look in response to her glib remark, and Jesse did her very best to pretend that the reproving stare had no effect on her.

"What I want to hear is why these two idjits-" the older man jerked his head meaningfully at Sam and Dean, who looked taken aback by the remark, "- thought that you did have knowledge of the future."

The woman opened her mouth, only to be interrupted as Sam broke in.

"You knew about the Apocalypse," he stated flatly, and then gave the younger woman a warning look when she tried to protest. "And you knew about Michael and Lucifer wanting to have a throwdown."

Jesse scowled as she cocked an eyebrow, and forced herself to hold back the scathing remark that immediately came to mind. She had to keep calm if she wanted to get through this with her sanity relatively intact, much less her dignity.

"The entire world's gone to shit in a matter of months," the woman said simply, her face set in a deadpan expression as she tried not to think about how many ways everything could go wrong if she slipped up. Just keep it simple, and make it sound believable. "You don't think that people have noticed? Besides, just in case you guys forgot, I was sitting right there when the resident neighborhood feathered psychopath started spouting all of that crap about the Apocalypse, it being your fault, and how you two were vessels to Michael and Lucifer." Jesse pulled a face as she reached up and began to massage the bridge of her nose. "Add it all together, and it really wasn't that hard to figure out."

"Castiel said that you knew his name, and that you knew he was an angel."

Jesse let out a long, weary sigh, before she looked up at Dean. "That's cause you called him Cas when we were all stuck in that God-awful Japanese game show. And the host made some kind of crack about 'pretty-boy angels' after he disappeared. Plus, the jackass extraordinaire addressed him by his full name before he made him disappear in that weird sitcom set. Like I said, not that hard to figure out."

The brothers hardly looked pleased by the explanation if the sour expressions on their faces were anything to go by – no, she was not going to smirk smugly at them – but, she could tell that they couldn't argue with the logic of what she was telling them. It made her feel just a little bit better to know that they couldn't rip her a new one for what she was saying.

Finally, something had worked out for once.

"Then what about what Chuck said?" Sam suddenly asked, and the relief that she had been feeling had slipped away faster than a retreating wave. Jesse grimaced as she briefly entertained the thought of banging her head repeatedly against the closest hard surface, but decided that she might need the extra brain cells. Not that she really had any to spare.

"… don't have an explanation for that one," she finally muttered quietly, and all three men exchanged knowing glances at her resigned admission.

"Why not?" Bobby said as he gave Jesse a very intense glance that indicated that he wouldn't put up with any bullshit on her part. She made a soft noise in response as she shrugged ruefully, although she refused to look up from the toes of her shoes. In spite of what Gabriel may have said back at the hotel, she didn't have an answer for everything, although she wouldn't deny that she was a smartass.

"Dunno. I kind of… freaked, when he said that I was a psychic." The woman gave them all a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Given how the week before had gone, it was just kind of the straw that broke the camel's back." Jesse made a helpless gesture before she gripped the worn and stained fabric of her jeans tightly, gritting her teeth as a feeling of vulnerable frustration washed over her. "I mean, I'm just a college student, nothing special there. I'm supposed to graduate next December for God's sake!"

An expression somewhat akin to sympathy flickered across Sam's face, although she didn't notice it, seeing as she was a little too busy staring at the floor and trying not to burst into tears again. She really didn't want to lose it in front of any of the hunters, didn't want to show weakness of any kind.

Dean cleared his throat meaningfully as he took a step forward, and Jesse slowly peered up at him warily through her bangs. She already didn't like where this was headed.

"You know, one thing I really don't understand is your little comment back in the warehouse," he stated gruffly as he jabbed a finger in the woman's direction. "Oh, what was it… some kind of crack about getting killed? So, care to explain?"

The Winchesters were promptly rewarded with the dubious pleasure of seeing Jesse go the color of old milk, eyes going wide in sheer and utter horror as she began to hyperventilate. She seemed to curl in on herself as she wrapped her arms around herself in a tight, protective hug, eyes wide and unseeing even as a low keening noise escaped from the back of her throat before it was swiftly cut off.

Jesse had tried to bury her own personal _Mystery Spot_ experience into some deep, dark corner in the back of her mind, she really had. She'd done her best not to even think about it, but the memories of how she'd died… they'd been blurred somehow – probably her brain's way of keeping her from going off the deep end – but every single night since the warehouse in Wellington, she'd woken up at least once in a cold sweat before she collapsed back into the pillow, silently thanking God that she was still alive and breathing. The drowning nightmares were the worst, especially since she _knew_ how to swim.

"What the devil?" Bobby hissed even as the boys flinched at the woman's reaction before he leveled a decidedly cranky glare in their direction. "What did you boys _do_ to her?"

Jesse sucked in a shaky breath before she shook her head and muttered weakly, "They didn't do anything to me. Sorry, bad memories, that's all. Just flipped out a little. Sorry."

"Flipped out a little?" the hunter grumbled as he gave her a skeptical stare. "I'd hate to see what would happen when you really lose it."

She didn't even bother to respond as she scrubbed her face with one hand, as though the action would held remove some of the memories. Her issues were her issues, and there was no way that she would ever tell the Winchesters or Bobby what had happened after her ill-fated remark.

"Getting killed?" Dean finally prodded after a few seconds of silence, and Jesse flinched once again, but didn't show any other reaction as she slowly looked up at the older man and glared at him.

"You know, there's this wonderful skill known as 'tact'," she began, a hint of warning seeping into her voice as she tried not to lose her temper. "You might want to learn it."

The older man just shrugged carelessly in response before he made a 'get on with it' gesture, and Jesse gritted her teeth in frustration.

"I think I liked it better when you were a fictional character in a book series who made funny, smartass remarks," she all but growled, and felt more than a little bit of satisfaction as Dean unconsciously flinched at the remark. "Right now, I think you're a dick, and I can't wait until I can get the hell away from you. Maybe, if I'm really, _really_ lucky, I'll never see you again."

She was about to stand up when a large hand suddenly landed on her shoulder, forcing Jesse to remain in her seat. The woman immediately looked behind her, and winced slightly as she stared up at Sam, who had somehow managed to maneuver himself behind her without her even noticing. Okay, she was only 5'5, and she couldn't sneak around on purpose to save her life. It was not fair that a guy who was a full foot taller than her could be able to pull a freaking ninja sneak attack like that.

"Maybe I'm reading a little too much into this, but you seem to be trying to avoid the subject," the younger Winchester said calmly as he gave Jesse such a heartfelt look that she immediately knew he was trying to put her at ease. It didn't help. "Jesse, what happened in the warehouse?"

The woman averted her eyes as she swallowed nervously, a bitter taste welling up in her mouth even as she reached up and began to massage the bridge of her nose in a clear sign of distress. She didn't want to talk about this, she really didn't. It had been bad enough living through it the first time.

"Okay, you guys remember the sitcom set, right?" she finally asked, and both men nodded even as Bobby gave them all a curious look. "Do you remember what I said before Gabriel made me disappear?"

"No," Dean said immediately, while Sam just stared at her intently, an odd expression on his face. After a few seconds, understanding dawned upon his face as he gave the younger woman a stunned look.

"You called him 'Flyboy'," he finally said, and Jesse winced in memory even as she nodded reluctantly in agreement. "Why?"

She smirked grimly even as a humorless laugh wrenched its way from her throat. "Honestly? Because he was getting on my nerves, and he sounded just like my little brother when he was in one of his moods. My brother, Andy, is in the Air Force, so I call him Flyboy all the time just to get on his nerves. Besides, I'm his sister. If I don't deflate his ego from time to time, who will?"

Sam chuckled in agreement, even as Dean shot his younger sibling a dirty look. Jesse smiled weakly before she laced her fingers together and rested her elbows on her knees, slouching forward in her seat and allowing her bangs to fall into her face.

"I didn't think anything of it at the time," she admitted with a shrug. "I mean, it was something that I was used to saying all the time, so it wasn't like it was anything unusual. But, next thing I know, I get tossed into the middle of the ocean and then blacked out after this big-ass wave crested over me and slammed me way the hell down underwater." Jesse paused, and a look of shock flickered across her face before she raked her hair out of her eyes agitatedly, her face taking on an unhealthy pallor as something that she had never considered before dawned upon her. "Holy shit. I didn't even think about it before now. I think I drowned then."

"What?" Sam said as he straightened up and shot her a disbelieving look. The younger woman shifted uncomfortably in her spot, and to her eternal shame, she felt the corners of her eyes sting with what could only be tears. She quickly ducked her head to hide the evidence of her rapidly-approaching meltdown, and forced herself to continue.

"I think I really pissed your buddy off, 'cause he stuffed me into about thirty different TV shows," she stated hollowly, still refusing to look the Winchesters. "Think TV version of the Mystery Spot, and you'll be pretty much right on target."

A shocked silence all but crashed down as all three of the hunters gaped at Jesse, who refused to look up at any of them as she tried not to lose her cool. The last thing she needed to do was have another sob-fest and look like nothing more than a crybaby. After a bit, Sam was the one who regained the ability of speech as he eyed the younger woman almost nervously.

"You were gasping when you appeared in the warehouse, like you couldn't breathe properly," he said slowly, the pieces falling into place even as he stared down at Jesse, who had started to shake slightly in her seat.

"Or I hadn't had anything _to_ breathe," she corrected shakily. "Right before I got snapped back, I was in the bottom of Boston Harbor, courtesy of the Irish Mob." The woman paused before she gave a watery laugh. "Which really kind of sucked, by the way, 'cause I _am_ Irish. Guess they don't like half-breeds."

The words choked off into a sob, and then, to her eternal shame and horror, the tears started to fall freely even as she tried to deflect the shame and fear that she felt with sarcasm, only to fail miserably. Jesse tried her best to scrunch up into a miserable little ball as she began to sob helplessly. Great, now she looked like a complete and total wuss, but she couldn't help herself. And this was her second breakdown for the day. Oh, fantastic.

Someone crouched down in front of her and held her shoulders gently, muttering something that was obviously supposed to be soothing, but Jesse didn't care as she began to sob even harder. It didn't matter who was trying to calm her down, only that she didn't know them. She didn't know anyone here, and none of them even _cared_. To them, the only thing she was good for was one-time information, and that was it. If anything, she went damn near into hysterics at this realization.

Not a single damn person gave a rat's ass about what happened to her here. She had no friends, no family, nothing. For the first time in her life, Jesse was _alone_.

"I just want to go home," she finally choked out thickly, tears streaming down her face even as she forced the words from her throat. "I don't want to know that monsters are real. I don't want to meet angels. I don't want to know about the Apocalypse. I just want to see my mom and dad." The words came out in a sort of shaky, strangled tone as she buried her face in her hands. "I want to go _home_."

A series of highly uncomfortable looks was the only response that she received from all three of the hunters at her remark as she continued to cry.

* * *

The next day or so was fairly uncomfortable for everyone, mostly Jesse. Dean treated her like she was a hormonal time bomb that was about to explode at the slightest provocation, and Sam gave her oddly pitying, yet cautious, looks from time to time. Bobby seemed to be the only one who didn't give a crap over the fact that she'd flipped out the way she had. Then again, he'd also been the one to give her something to do other than sit around and worry about what the hell was gonna happen to her.

Granted, that something to do had involved thunking a massive book that was probably older than she was down in front of her and telling her to read it, but Jesse honestly didn't mind. Even though the damn thing was all about different portents of the Apocalypse, as long as she just pretended that she was reading the stupid thing for shits and giggles and not because she was stuck in a stupid TV show where the whole damn thing was _real_, she was fine. Jesse spent the good part of the next two days reading the massive tome, laboriously copying down passages that sounded important onto notebook paper in her neatest handwriting. Granted, she sucked at writing anything in pen, so the words were only slightly neater than usual, but she still kept at it.

She had somehow managed to delude herself into thinking that what she was doing was part of an assignment for school, or research for the adventure story that she and Carol had always wanted to write. Anything other than the true reason was better to believe, especially since it was essentially busywork give to her by a gruff old hunter to keep her from freaking out again.

Ordinarily, Jesse probably would have heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, as well as the distinctive noises of people talking. However, she had her headphones on and was listening to something that was most certainly not Dean Winchester approved, trying to delude herself into believing that she was holed up in some musty corner of Hayden Library, reading an equally musty book. So, she could hardly be blamed for yelping when someone tossed a very large and heavy duffle bag over the top of the couch she was lying down on, and nearly getting her head squashed in the bargain before she fell off the side and landed with a loud 'thump' on the wooden floor.

"What the-?" an unfamiliar female voice began just as Jesse wrenched the headphones off and let them hang from around her neck. "Bobby, I think you need to clean more often. Your couch just spoke!"

Jesse frowned and opened her mouth to protest just as a blonde-haired woman not too much older than her peered curiously over the back of the couch, and stared at her in surprise before her expression quickly shifted into one of suspicion. The two of them stared at each other wordlessly for several seconds, and Jesse frowned slightly in confusion before she was finally able to place the other female's face – Jo Harvelle. Ah. Yeah, she was screwed. For some reason, the Irony Gods really seemed to hate her guts lately.

Fortunately, Dean walked into the room with Sam and an older woman with darker blonde hair before Jesse was either forced to explain why she was occupying the couch in Bobby's living room, or get exorcized. The older man's gaze flicked in between her and Jo before he let out a soft sigh and shrugged.

"She's clean," he said, and Sam flashed her a reassuring smile while the two women – Ellen and Jo Harvelle – each glanced at her uncertainly. "Just someone who got tangled up in one of our last hunts."

The brush-off stung a little, more than she would ever care to admit, but Jesse merely decided that the best method of approach was to ignore them, all of them, and slowly picked herself up from where she had fallen and brushed herself off, biting down slightly on her lower lip as she averted her eyes. She didn't need to see the suspicion, the curiosity, the disgust in someone else's eyes when they looked at her after they found out what the Winchesters thought she was. And she definitely didn't want or need to hear Dean flippantly describe her as a 'stray'. No one gave a flying crap about her here, and she didn't need to have it rubbed into her face every damn day. Wordlessly, the young woman gathered up her book and notepad, and retreated upstairs to the guest bedroom that Bobby had told her she could sleep in when she'd first arrived the other day.

Once she was safely in the room that felt anything other than safe and familiar – far too clean and empty to feel like her jumbled, cluttered mess of a bedroom – Jesse flopped down on the bed lay on her back with a sigh. She knew that she was being anti-social, she just didn't care. Honestly, how the hell were you supposed to react when a couple of strange men who weren't supposed to exist outside of a damned TV show told you that you had to stay at a stupid salvage yard until further notice? More specifically, until they figured out what the hell to do with you. Be all happy and chipper, even when you knew that you were pretty much the physical equivalent of the elephant in the room? Nope, not gonna happen.

The woman let out a long sigh as she replaced her headphones, closed her eyes, and began to softly belt out the lyrics to Breaking Benjamin's _Medicate_. She couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but she didn't really care right now. Music was one of her de-stressors, and she had no problem in singing along just as long as no one was around to hear her. Besides, forcing herself to calm down was better than blowing her top and making a scene.

Jesse had managed to reach a state of reasonable calm, and was on the verge of drifting off to sleep when someone tapped her on the leg, and she bolted upright in a tangle of limbs as she tried to scramble away from the person on the edge of the bed. When the woman had calmed down enough to not try and bolt, she realized that it was Jo Harvelle staring at her like she'd just sprouted another head, and not anything else that would want to either kill her repeatedly or make her life a living hell in any other way.

The younger female blanched before she shrugged sheepishly, feeling like a complete and total idiot. Jo stared at her for a moment, an odd expression on her face before she slowly extended a hand towards Jesse, who couldn't help but stare at it like she was being offered a severed head.

"Hi, I don't think that we were introduced downstairs," the blonde woman stated with a small smile as she continued to hold out her hand. "I'm Jo Harvelle."

Jesse stared at her stupidly for several seconds before she finally accepted the other female's outstretched hand and shook it, offering her a slightly sheepish smile in response. Wow, it was a really sad state of affairs when she started expecting people to treat her like crap when they met her. "Jesse Harper."

Jo froze after Jesse said her name, a look of confused uncertainty briefly flickering across her face as she blinked, and the two women stared at each other in surprise for a few seconds before they both started laughing, the noise a combination of surprise and humor.

"We have the same initials," Jo chuckled after they had stopped giggling, her blue eyes crinkling slightly in good humor. "Now that's a little weird."

"Uh, yeah… only a little," Jesse cracked wryly as she held her thumb and forefinger apart the smallest fraction of an inch in a sarcastic approximation of just how weird. Well that was definitely something that she had never thought about before. "Could be weirder though," she muttered with a shrug before she looked over at the older female. "Well, Jo Harvelle, I would say that it's nice to meet you, but my mom always said that lying is a sin."

The hunter cocked a blonde eyebrow in response to the only slightly sarcastic remark. "Been that bad of a week, huh?"

Jesse offered her a strained smile in response as she scooted back a little on the bed, and Jo took that opportunity to plop down on the end, the mattress sinking a little under her weight.

"Been a bad two _weeks_," the younger female said quietly as she allowed her legs to dangle over the side of the bed and let them swing back and forth idly. Jo cocked an eyebrow at the remark, although she chose not to say anything for a while as she stared at Jesse intently, watching the other girl as she pulled her legs close to her chest, looking for a moment like she wanted to assume a defensive position, before she instead managed to tuck them underneath her.

"So what happened?" she asked once Jesse had gotten settled. "All those two told me was that you'd gotten tangled up in one of their last hunts, and now they think that it might be better for you to stick around here."

A dark expression flickered across the younger woman's face, and her right hand fisted tightly into the fabric of the worn comforter covering the bed.

"They think that I'm a psychic," Jesse finally said tersely after a moment of tense silence. "I'm not. I don't get any… I dunno… premonitions or whatever, and the weirdest dreams that I have tend to consist of me walking into class and not having my homework, or having a discussion on psychology with a flying hamster." She pulled a face thoughtfully, although there was still a decided hint of irritation in her expression. "And it probably doesn't help that I met them when we all got tangled up in a Trickster's sick excuse for entertainment."

She refrained from mention anything along the lines of the fact that said Trickster was in reality one of the four original archangels, one of the only ones to have ever seen the face of God, as well as the fact that said archangel had a mockingly abrasive personality, a foul temper, and the emotional maturity of four-year-old. For some reason, Jesse really didn't feel like going over _how_ she knew those particular pieces of information. That right there was one of the many things that made up a very _long_ list of subjects to avoid. Jo looked thoughtful at her explanation, clearly thinking something over, before she glanced over at the younger female curiously, blonde eyebrows knitting together in a mixture of concern and interest.

"So… how _did_ you walk into a Trickster's illusion?" the female hunter finally asked after several long moments of almost awkward silence. Jesse let out a derisive snort in response as she reached up to brush her bangs out of her face, absentmindedly noting that they were at the awkward length where they hung just below her eyes, but were still too short to fully brush out of her face. Huh, served her right for having layered bangs.

"I didn't walk into anything," she remarked sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "I got sucked into the vortex of Doom."

Jo snorted at the cynical observation, and Jesse rolled her eyes in agreement before she began to swing her legs absentmindedly, not really paying any attention to what she was doing as she glanced over at the other woman.

"Seriously though?" Jesse said quietly after a moment as she stilled. "I don't know how I ended up in there. I mean, all I did was walk out the back door to my classroom over at ASU, and then presto, the next thing I knew, I was facing down a pissed-off demigod."

Surprise flashed across the other woman's face at the quiet admission before Jo silently reached out and gently placed a hand on Jesse's shoulder in a comforting gesture. The younger woman looked over at her with wide eyes, stunned over the fact that someone who barely even knew her was sitting next to her on the bed, taking the time to comfort her. Compared to what she'd experienced the past few weeks… well, it was a world away to the frosty 'if-I-don't-talk-to-you-then-you-don't-exist' attitude that Dean had given her. It made her feel like she was a little less alone in this place that she'd somehow stumbled into.

"So… has anything, well… _strange_ happened at your school before this?"

Jesse cocked an eyebrow at the question, and the slightly 'professional' hunter's tone that Jo had taken on, before she offered her a wry grin and shook her head.

"Well, now there has," she quipped sarcastically, and Jo looked thoughtful before she nodded in agreement. With a sigh, Jesse reached up and rubbed at the back of her neck, her expression becoming distant. "And besides, it's Arizona. I don't know if you've ever been there, but it gets _really_ hot there during the summer, as in sometimes we hit 120 degrees… well, if you're down in the Valley or further south, honestly. If you're up north, in the Prescott, Payson, or Flagstaff areas… well, it's a lot cooler up there. You'll maybe hit the low 90's, but that's only if you're out in one of the field or desert-ish areas." At the odd look she received for her chatting, Jesse gave Jo a sheepish grin. "Sorry, I'm babbling, aren't I?"

The blonde grinned as she held up her right hand, her thumb and forefinger spaced only slightly apart as she flashed the younger female a teasing look. "Just a little."

Jesse stared at her for a moment, blinked, and then fell backwards onto the mattress with a dramatic groan, rolling her eyes as she did so.

"I'm being mocked," she stated, although the her mouth twitched up into a small smile indicated that she was not nearly as offended as she pretended to be. In a way, it kind of felt like the easy camaraderie that she and Carol had shared for the past seven or so years. Not quite, of course, but it was a little slice of something normal, which Jesse practically _craved_ after everything else she'd been through so far.

"Maybe," Jo admitted with an entirely unrepentant shrug, and the younger woman sighed as she sat up and shook her head.

"Alrighty then, well I feel loved," Jesse muttered sarcastically before she let out a soft puff of breath. "Anyways, back to the reason why I was talking about Arizona weather." She glanced over at Jo, and then shrugged. "What I was trying to say is that it's still pretty hot out in Arizona... I mean, in September we were still going back and forth between 90 and 100 degree weather. They either blast the AC in the buildings, or they don't turn it on at all. So if there were any cold spots in the classrooms or anything like that," she paused and shook her head, "well, let's go with either someone would bitch about it, or they'd claim it as their permanent seat, depending on how hot it was outside." The woman frowned thoughtfully for a moment. "And outside of the muggings that happened at the beginning of the year, nothing weird's happened… well, unless you count frat boys showing up to class dead-ass drunk."

The hunter gave an inelegant snort at the idea before she shook her head and frowned slightly at the remark.

"From what I've heard, I think frat boys are at every school," she said slowly, clearly remembering something. "I wouldn't really know though, since I've never actually been to college. Closest I've ever got is a hunt that my mom and I had at UCLA."

Surprised by the admission, Jesse glanced over at her, cocking an eyebrow. That was funny… for some reason, she thought that Jo had gone to college at least for a little bit. Although she hadn't watched the second season since… oh, maybe that summer, when she and Carol had been doing their _Supernatural_ marathons because school was out, and both of them had never watched those particular parts of the show before, since they hadn't even known about it when the second season had originally aired. After a moment, Jesse sighed as she reached up to massage the bridge of her nose. Maybe she had her information wrong or something. Or maybe this place was really just messing with her mind. Either way, she wasn't exactly fond of the concept.

When Jo made a faint noise of concern though, Jesse realized that she was acting oddly, and immediately straightened up as she allowed her hand to drop into her lap.

"Sorry, was trying to remember something that sounded familiar," she muttered with a shake of her head. "The information just wasn't computing." She paused for a moment before she glanced over at the blonde quizzically. "So, you've never even gone to community college? I mean, I'm in my fourth year at ASU… when I'm not dealing with the political bullcrap that the dean's pulling, I actually enjoy myself. Honestly, I like learning."

"Well, I'd like to go," Jo said quietly after a moment. "And I know that if you asked my mom she'd want me to go as well. But I would never leave her to hunt alone. When it comes to hunting, two is always better than one."

Actually, that made a lot of sense, especially since Jesse knew just from watching the show that hunting was a dangerous, nasty, and quite often, _fatal_, way of life. Honestly, the worst part was the fact that she knew about a lot of the stuff that had never _been_ covered in the show thanks to her fascination with folklore. There were things from countries all over the world that she'd read about, and would honestly never want to stumble across if she could avoid it. But if you were a hunter and had someone to watch your back, well, that gave you a greater likelihood of actually surviving long enough to see your first gray hairs.

"I can understand that," she said as she nodded understandingly. "I mean, if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't want my mom to that kind of stuff by herself either. No offense or anything, but your lifestyle is dangerous as hell… so yeah, backup is definitely a good idea." Jesse snorted suddenly as another thought occurred to her, and she shook her head. "Then again, ASU is known to be one of the top 10 party schools in the US, and nasty crap happens all the time. I guess last year one of the fraternities that's not officially supported by the school, hell, I actually think that they're not even allowed to have their fraternity on ASU grounds because they're such assholes, thought that it would be funny to roll a cement trash can up onto the overpass that goes over one of the main streets passing through campus, and then dump it onto the street." She sighed as she reached up to rub at the back of her neck. "It was the middle of the night, but the trash can landed on a car and killed two people. So I guess that it's dangerous no matter where you are, even if it's just mundane stuff."

Jo stared at her for a second before she let out a quiet, disgusted snort. "Frat boys seem to be pretty stupid, no matter where they are. But… they're even worse when they're vampires."

For a moment, Jesse could have sworn that she actually heard the sound of her brain backfiring as she gaped at the hunter. A vampire _fraternity_? Oh man… wow, that was just messed up.

"Are you _shitting_ me?" she finally demanded as she stared at the older woman incredulously. "They seriously started a… a vampire _fraternity_? That's… wow… holy crap…"

"Yeah. That's why Mom and I went to UCLA," Jo said with a soft sigh before she rolled her eyes. "A nest of vampires thought that they could get cute and start their own frat house."

Jesse stared at the older female for a long time, trying to process the information that she'd just been given, before she shuddered and made a face, clearly not enjoying the concept at all.

"Are you serious?" she finally asked, a trace of scornful disbelief lacing her voice, as well as a slight hint of actually nervousness. "Evil frat boys?" The look on Jo's face was all the answer she needed, and Jesse shook her head in disgust as she pinched the bridge of her nose in a clear sign of aggravation. "O-kay, those dumbasses had clearly been watching waaay too much _Buffy_, and deserved to die before they were able to procreate and further spread their stupidity."

"That was the general intention."

The younger woman nodded as she leaned back a little and frowned thoughtfully, reaching up and fiddling absentmindedly with the pewter cross hanging from around her neck with the hand that she wasn't using to prop herself up. After a minute or so, a question accidentally slipped out without Jesse even really thinking about it.

"So… with vampires, real ones, you gotta do the decapitation and burn, just to make sure, right?" she muttered distractedly, without even realizing that she was thinking aloud. However, when Jesse caught sight of the startled look that Jo gave her, she hastily scrambled to cover her tracks even as she stared at the hunter wide-eyed. "I mean, because I'm thinking that there's no way that they just turn into a pile of dust if you nail in them in the heart with a piece of sharp wood. Hey, I've read _Dracula_; you've got to behead them first, otherwise staking does Jack shit."

Even though she tried to sound nonchalant about the whole thing, there was still a faint tremor in her voice. Fantastic, she'd slipped up yet again. And now someone who she'd actually managed to have a friendly discussion with was going to hate her guts for nothing other than the fact that she existed, and had knowledge that she technically shouldn't have.

When Jo merely stared at her intently, blue eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, and a little bit of interest, Jesse blinked in surprise. Okay… so maybe she wasn't going to get her head taken off this time?

"So… you know more about this than what those knuckleheads downstairs let on, don't you," she said slowly as she fixed Jesse with an unblinking stare. The younger woman smiled weakly in return before she let out an ironic snort.

"And this surprises you, that there are times when they can string together more than 'me like beer'?" she asked sarcastically as she cocked an eyebrow, prompting a muffled laugh from Jo at the wiseass remark before she shrugged somewhat dismissively. "Besides, I'm a total mythology and folklore geek. I've been reading the stuff extensively since I was about 13."

A pair of light-colored eyebrows rose skeptically at her rather pathetic attempt to deflect the question, and Jesse winced even as she silently cursed her apparent inability to bend the truth in a feasible manner. It was official; she could not lie, or even twist the truth, to save her life. Jo continued to stare at her, almost as though she could force the younger woman to admit her 'guilt' through the sheer force of her gaze alone.

"True… but that still doesn't explain all that much," the other woman remarked candidly. Jesse winced ruefully at the slight barb before she let out an explosive sigh, puffing her bangs out of her face with a resigned gust.

"Look, I liked mythology and folklore before all of this happened, just because of the stories in them. I never thought that any of this crap actually _existed_," she explained nervously as she fiddled with her pendant before she paused, a horrible thought abruptly dawning upon her before she looked over at Jo with wide eyes. "Did Sam and Dean ever tell you about the books?"

The blonde immediately raised an eyebrow curiously. "What books?"

Well crap. Great, now she was _really_ screwed.

"Ah… umm, well, you'll just have to ask them then," Jesse muttered as she looked away, not wanting to look Jo in the eyes. "In fact, better yet, talk to that angel guy, Castiel. Just ask him about a book series written by some jackass named Chuck, or Carver Edlund. He'll probably be able to explain it better than I can."

"What do books have to do with anything though?" Jo queried as she stared at the other woman strangely, not quite getting where she was coming from. "Are they some kind of research?"

Jesse flinched slightly as she realized that she had somehow managed to dig herself into yet another hole, and it was up to her to get herself out now. Dammit, why couldn't any of this junk be easy? She reached up and scrubbed at her face, wishing that she could learn to either not put her foot in her mouth, or just manage to avoid situations as insane as the one she was currently in so she wouldn't have to go through this kind of stuff.

"If I tell you, will you promise not to kill me?" she asked warily with a pained grimace. Jo seemed surprised by the comment before she let out a soft laugh.

"Well, so far you haven't proven yourself to be a demon, or a harpy, or anything dangerous," she said with a smile. "You seem harmless enough."

Jesse blanched at the insinuation that she might not be human. Now that thought right there was enough to make her feel physically ill, as well as have a shudder of pure terror crawl through her entire body without her consent. She'd already gone through the holy water test, the silver test – which had sucked ass, thank you _very_ much, an iron test, and the wonderful sensation of having an evergreen splinter shoved into her arm to check and see if she was a pagan god. Fortunately, she'd mercifully passed every single one of them. But the mere concept of someone believing that she was some kind of evil _thing_ that needed to be hunted down and killed? Well, that scared the holy crap out of her a whole hell of a lot more than she'd ever care to admit.

"Okay, first of all, please don't get pissed off, because I swear that I never thought any of this was real…" she said shakily, her tone reluctant even as she stared pleadingly at Jo, silently begging some deity out there that this one person who had actually bothered to look at her as a scared shitless fellow human being instead of some kind of creeping nasty didn't hate her immediately for telling her this. "Anyways, this guy under the penname of Carver Edlund wrote a book series around 2005 or so called _Supernatural_. It featured these two brothers who ran around the country hunting things that went bump in the night, things that most people didn't believe actually existed." Jesse paused for a second before she swallowed awkwardly and grimaced. "I used to read those books, and I thought that the series was really cool."

If the bland, confused expression on Jo's face was anything to go by, she didn't see why Jesse was having such a hard time talking about the afore-mentioned series. "So?"

"So…" Jesse sighed as she reached up and agitatedly dragged her bangs out her face, struggling to keep back the feeling of almost raw terror that wanted to swamp her. "It turned out that the guy who wrote them was actually a prophet, and that he was following the exploits of Messer's Winchester when he wrote all of those books."

At that statement, Jo froze. She stared at the younger woman incredulously, as though she could hardly believe that Jesse actually existed, much less made the statement that had just escaped from her mouth. For several long moments, she just sat there on the edge of the bed, gaping at the college student, who became increasingly more nervous over the intense scrutiny she was under before she began to scramble backwards, trying place some distance in between her and Jo.

Jesse silently cursed her idiocy as she backed up, getting ready to leap off the bed and run if she needed to. Why, _why_ couldn't she just bloody _learn_ to keep her damn mouth shut?

* * *

*runs out and grins like a maniac, rocking back and forth on her heels*

Yes people, you may all sleep in fear now, because I'm ba-ack! I'm really sorry for the delay, but school got nuts PDQ after I last posted, and I was unable to really sit down, relax, and write. Between all of the projects that I had to do, work, and my internship… I was a little stressed out sometimes. Also, I lost my beta reader and general best bud to bounce ideas off of because she went off on a mission from _Gahd_. *grins* If you guys get the reference, fantastic.

Anyways, I owe a major-league thank you to AuntMo, because without her, I'd be sunk. She let me bounce ideas off of her, and the general brainstorming we were able to do together created some very interesting lines…

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, and for being so patient with me.

Reviews:

Thanks to AuntMo, Luna del Cielo, Maat, darkhalfangel14, gabe fan, DarknessinShadows, Willow-Be the Cat, Ash, The DevilsDaughter267, unedibleditbonjour, Mithya Aviana Cailin, Sube the Wench, Immie, and Smiling Loki for all of your patience and input.

See all of you next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10: Don't Know How To Win

_We have lost all communication when words fall on deaf ears_  
_I'm starting to feel a transformation._  
_How did I get here?_  
_I don't recognize my own reflection it's a ghost of what once was_  
_Gone from relative to stranger, separating body from mind_

_I just don't know_  
_How to win with you_  
_And I can't let go, part of me is you._

_You stay the same_  
_Allowing me to change_

_I just don't know_  
_How to win with you_  
_I can't let go, part of me is you._

_I just don't know, just don't know._  
_I can't let go, can't let go._

-"Just Can't Win" by **10 Years**

"Clearly the girl has a fierce spirit inherited from a fierce father. She does not know how to yield to misfortune." – Sophocles, _Antigone_

**Chapter Ten:**

**Don't Know ****How To Win**

_**Then:**_

_The blonde immediately raised an eyebrow curiously. "What books?"_

_Well crap. Great, now she was __**really**__ screwed._

"_Ah… umm, well, you'll just have to ask them then," Jesse muttered as she looked away, not wanting to look Jo in the eyes. "In fact, better yet, talk to that angel guy, Castiel. Just ask him about a book series written by some jackass named Chuck, or Carver Edlund. He'll probably be able to explain it better than I can."_

"_What do books have to do with anything though?" Jo queried as she stared at the other woman strangely, not quite getting where she was coming from. "Are they some kind of research?"_

_Jesse flinched slightly as she realized that she had somehow managed to dig herself into yet another hole, and it was up to her to get herself out now. Dammit, why couldn't any of this junk be easy? She reached up and scrubbed at her face, wishing that she could learn to either not put her foot in her mouth, or just manage to avoid situations as insane as the one she was currently in so she wouldn't have to go through this kind of stuff._

"_If I tell you, will you promise not to kill me?" she asked warily with a pained grimace. Jo seemed surprised by the comment before she let out a soft laugh._

"_Well, so far you haven't proven yourself to be a demon, or a harpy, or anything dangerous," she said with a smile. "You seem harmless enough."_

_Jesse blanched at the insinuation that she might not be human. Now that thought right there was enough to make her feel physically ill, as well as have a shudder of pure terror crawl through her entire body without her consent. She'd already gone through the holy water test, the silver test – which had sucked ass, thank you __**very **__much, an iron test, and the wonderful sensation of having an evergreen splinter shoved into her arm to check and see if she was a pagan god. Fortunately, she'd mercifully passed every single one of them. But the mere concept of someone believing that she was some kind of evil __**thing**__ that needed to be hunted down and killed? Well, that scared the holy crap out of her a whole hell of a lot more than she'd ever care to admit._

"_Okay, first of all, please don't get pissed off, because I swear that I never thought any of this was real…" she said shakily, her tone reluctant even as she stared pleadingly at Jo, silently begging some deity out there that this one person who had actually bothered to look at her as a scared shitless fellow human being instead of some kind of creeping nasty didn't hate her immediately for telling her this. "Anyways, this guy under the penname of Carver Edlund wrote a book series around 2005 or so called __**Supernatural**__. It featured these two brothers who ran around the country hunting things that went bump in the night, things that most people didn't believe actually existed." Jesse paused for a second before she swallowed awkwardly and grimaced. "I used to read those books, and I thought that the series was really cool."_

_If the bland, confused expression on Jo's face was anything to go by, she didn't see why Jesse was having such a hard time talking about the afore-mentioned series. "So?" _

"_So…" Jesse sighed as she reached up and agitatedly dragged her bangs out her face, struggling to keep back the feeling of almost raw terror that wanted to swamp her. "It turned out that the guy who wrote them was actually a prophet, and that he was following the exploits of Messer's Winchester when he wrote all of those books."_

_At that statement, Jo froze. She stared at the younger woman incredulously, as though she could hardly believe that Jesse actually existed, much less made the statement that had just escaped from her mouth. For several long moments, she just sat there on the edge of the bed, gaping at the college student, who became increasingly more nervous over the intense scrutiny she was under before she began to scramble backwards, trying place to some distance in between her and Jo._

_Jesse silently cursed her idiocy as she backed up, getting ready to leap off the bed and run if she needed to. Why, __**why**__ couldn't she just bloody __**learn**__ to keep her damn mouth shut?_

_**Now:**_

Jo Harvelle stared at Jesse intently for several seconds before she blinked, and then, much to the other woman's shock, burst out laughing. This carried on for well over a minute, causing Jesse no little amount of concern as she stared warily at the hunter. Last time she'd checked, her story wasn't exactly all that funny. Especially not if she added in the parts detailing how she was currently stuck in some kind of perverse alternate reality where everything in a very much fictional TV show was _real_. After a round of gut-busting laughter, Jo finally seemed to calm down a bit.

"Are you saying that there are actually books out there about the two idiots downstairs?" she asked, a wide grin crossing her face before she threw her head back and laughed. Jesse merely sat there and stared at her, completely dumbfounded. Out of all the possible reactions that she had expected, this was definitely not among them. "And you've actually _read_ them? Who ever thought that anyone would ever want to read about their sorry-ass life?" The blonde woman dissolved into snickers before she looked over at Jesse curiously. "And why in the world would you think that I'd be mad at you?"

As she realized that she was not going to have to avoid yet another pissed-off hunter, Jesse slowly sat back down on the bed in a kind of numb shock. Someone wasn't about to hate her guts just because she had some information that wasn't readily available? Holy crap, the end of the world really was happening.

"Oh, let's see, maybe 'cause Dean nearly burst a blood vessel when he found out that I'd read the books?" she asked sarcastically, although the way her voice shook slightly indicated that she wasn't feeling nearly as cynical as she tried to sound. "I literally had to jump back to keep him from taking a swipe at me."

Jo looked at her questioningly for a moment before she burst into giggles, not even bothering to cover them up as she stared at the younger woman. "So, what did you learn about him that he doesn't want you to know?"

With a frown, the college student wrinkled her nose slightly at the thought. Now that was a question that she'd really _love_ to have the answers to. She knew good and well that her personal opinion of Dean being a bigoted jerk wouldn't be acceptable here.

"I think that it's more the fact that I knew he existed, and that he felt I had private knowledge of his personal life," Jesse explained wryly before she jerked her shoulders upwards in an awkward shrug. "I mean, in a couple of books they talk about some of his exes… stuff like that. Only reason I've ever read any of the books is because was because I liked the folkloric elements in there. Scary movies aren't my thing… but I liked this stuff, although that's probably because there's a lot of humor and sarcasm in it too."

Apparently Jo found the idea of a hunter's life being less scary than a horror movie amusing, because she bit down on her lip to keep from laughing out loud. The hunter was silent for a while, still chuckling over the concept of Dean Winchester as a book character for impressionable individuals to read about for enjoyment, before she shook her head and glanced over at Jesse, an impish spark in her eyes.

"Do you have any of the books on you?" she asked suddenly, and Jesse blinked in surprise as she gaped at the older woman in shock before she shook her head and grinned ruefully.

"No, I don't," she said with a quiet laugh. "They're all at home."

Jo let out a disappointed sigh, most likely at the loss of all the possible blackmail to be had against Dean, before she wiggled backwards a bit so that she was more comfortably seated on the mattress. Fiddling with the leather bracelet around her right wrist, Jesse frowned as she tried to recall more of _The Monster at the End of the Book_, before she thought of another good reason why Dean would hate the books. Actually, it was a good reason why both Winchesters would hate the books… especially if you looked at someone like Becky.

Slash fans… and the resulting, vomit-worthy stories that they wrote.

"Um, I think another reason might be because of some of the fans that like the books," Jesse muttered, causing Jo to look up and tilt her head to the side in confusion. "I guess that a lot of them think that… he and Sam… um, you know…"

"What?"

Jesse sucked in a deep breath and hissed out the words as quickly and bluntly as possible, as though they could burn her tongue or sear the desperately unwanted images into her brain without her consent. This wasn't exactly on the list of things that she had _ever_ wanted to explain to somebody. "They're slash fans. They have somehow gotten it into their minds that Sam and Dean have wild, kinky sex."

She was rewarded with the dubious pleasure of seeing the other female turn white before she made a suitably disgusted face at the concept. Jesse honesty couldn't blame her either. She found the concept of siblings doing that kind of… _thing_… well, it was pretty nasty.

"Ewwww… they're _brothers_ for God's sake!" Jo finally managed to spit out, and the younger woman winced sympathetically.

"Um, yeaaaah… that was kind of my thought on the subject," she admitted with a weary sigh before she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I mean, I know that if I was in his shoes and someone wrote that kind of crap about my brother and I? Well… I'd be starting my day off with a mass book-burning. And my brother would definitely find a way to nail some of those websites with one nasty-ass virus, just to make sure that the all of the stories died a horrible, screaming death, just to be safe."

"But still… _why_?"

"Because they have a genetic condition that makes it impossible for them to haul their minds out of the gutter."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's a terminal case of sick-mind-itis."

The two of them fell into a slightly disturbed silence as they contemplated the depravity of fans for a while, broken only by Jo's occasional chuckles over the younger woman's rather sardonic remark. Jesse let out a quiet sigh as she leaned back against a pillow that she had shoved up against the wall behind the bed. Honestly, she couldn't blame Jo's reaction to the world that some of the fans tended to create. At least her initial introduction to it was a bit less traumatizing than Jesse's had been. And at least now she knew what to avoid if she ever accidentally stumbled across something online.

After a little while, Jo finally spoke up.

"So you're not going to dish out any dirt on Dean?" she asked before she flashed Jesse a somewhat teasing grin. "'Cause he sure as hell likes to tease me, and I'd _love_ to have some ammo on him."

The other woman was surprised by the request before she began to laugh quietly, thinking over any potential blackmail material carefully. She was pretty sure that she had some good stuff, but she had to be careful about what she said, because Chuck's books _did_ only cover up until the third season of the show here. "Um… he got his ass kicked by a little girl called Missy Bender once?"

Jo started laughing at that in spite of herself, clearly amused.

"Okay… that will definitely come in handy the next time he tries to get overprotective with me," she chuckled before she looked at the other woman, clearly expecting more. "Got anything else?"

"Well…" Jesse thought for a moment before she allowed a small laugh to escape. "Sam did kick Dean's ass when he broke into his apartment at Stanford." The hopeful look that Jo gave her made her grin; it was almost like being back in Mesa with Carol, snickering over little things. Maybe, if she edited the source of information a little, she could use a highly embarrassing, more recent event. "And… I heard rumors about this, so I don't know if it's actually true… but he… got some kind of weird sickness… and screamed like a little girl when he saw a cat?"

The blonde hunter started almost literally _howling_ with laughter at that as she rocked back in her seat, hysterical giggles bubbling out of her throat.

"Oh, so the macho man can scream like a girl then?" she snickered once she had gotten her mirth under control. Jesse shrugged, something that she seemed to be doing quite a bit lately, before she looked over at Jo curiously, a small smile spreading across her face as she stared at the older woman intently.

"I don't really know," she said almost sheepishly as she rubbed at the back of her neck, trying to think of a way to phrase everything without slipping up and mentioning the show. As far as explanations went Jesse, really did not want to cover the whole 'I'm from another reality where you guys are nothing more than some screen-writer's brainchild' concept. "I only heard about it from some weird girl that was there when I met the author on accident."

Jo cocked an eyebrow as she stared at her in surprise, a curious expression flashing across her face. "You met the author? What was he like?"

A little taken aback, Jesse frowned faintly before she shook her head and shrugged. "Umm… a little twitchy, to be honest. I mean, he looks really normal, but he drinks a lot, although if I had angels screaming prophecies in my ear all the time, I'd probably start drinking too."

They both fell silent after that, each of them thinking things over. After a moment, Jo let out a heavy sigh as she leaned back against the wall that the bed was shoved up against, and Jesse stretched out a little until her back popped faintly before she pulled a pillow into her lap and held it close to her chest. It was kind if a depressing concept to be thinking about, to be honest, and the younger woman wrinkled her nose slightly before she decided that a change in the subject was needed.

"Speaking of macho guys…" she drawled before she grinned faintly at the hunter, "how do you feel about playing pranks?"

Jo blinked in surprise as she stared at Jesse curiously; a slight frown on her face before she straightened up and cocked an eyebrow.

"I don't get to very often, but I would love the chance to…" the hunter finally admitted slowly even as a knowing light crept into her eyes, and Jesse grinned. Apparently she wasn't the only one who enjoyed the idea of getting Dean back a little for some of the stunts that he'd pulled with them, although the ones that Jo had experienced were significantly more friendly than Jesse's had been. The teasing glint in the older woman's eyes indicated that she was definitely interested in whatever idea was brewing in the artist's mind.

"Dean's really into his classic rock, right?" Jesse asked after a moment, and Jo nodded slowly as she titled her head slightly to the side in confusion before the other woman began to expound on her scheme. "So… think that he'd have a coronary if his beloved stereo suddenly started spouting, oh I don't know… Lady Gaga?"

The hunter's face split into a broad grin at the idea before she began to laugh softly. Jesse could already tell that she approved of the concept.

"Oh yeah, and he would _totally_ blame Sam," Jo said eagerly even as she giggled. "He'd call it Sam's girly crap or something like that."

Both women grinned at the thought of a prank, and although Jesse only knew Dean from what she'd seen on the show back in her world, and she barely knew Jo at all, it was… nice… to have someone who actually didn't hate her. To be honest, it actually gave her a little hope that she'd make it through this whole fiasco alive.

Whether or not she'd still be _sane_ by the end of it though… well, that was another question entirely.

"Well… I have the music. All we need now is something to tape it on and to put it in his car," Jesse mused thoughtfully as she held her MP3 player up in the air for emphasis. "Maybe even have it on full-blast and positioned in a very embarrassing spot." She paused for a moment and wrinkled her nose before she glanced over at the hunter. "Or we could use Kesha or something. Whatever you think will make Dean start howling."

Surprisingly, the older woman merely flashed her a conspiratorial smile before she steepled her fingers together in a manner that was strongly reminiscent of Mr. Burns. Yes, much to the shock and disbelief of anyone who she may have worked with, Jesse did indeed know what _The Simpsons_ and _South Park_ were, she just didn't care. She was more of an original _Loony Toons_ and _Mickey Mouse_ cartoon girl anyways. But to be honest, she half-expected Jo to cackle something along the lines of a diabolical-sounding 'excellent' before she rubbed her hands together. Thankfully, for the sake of both of their respective sanities, she didn't, and the younger woman was very happy of said fact.

"Either one would make him howl," Jo stated confidently with a small smirk before her expression turned pensive. "And if my mom would let us use the car, there's a place in town where we could go make the tape."

For a moment Jesse merely stared at the older woman, slightly stunned, before she gave a soft laugh as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Even if it was for a brief moment, she felt a little better about the whole situation. For now, she wasn't alone here. For now, she had someone who didn't automatically hate her on sight. It was a nice feeling, one that gave her a little bit of hope that she would be able to get through this reasonably intact.

"Oh you're bad," she accused softly, a small grin on her face as she looked at the other woman, who was sporting a similar conspiratorial smirk. "Jo Harvelle, I think that this may just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

* * *

Once the two had hammered out the final details for their nefarious scheme, Jo had left Jesse in the room to get ready to go while she went downstairs to convince her mother and Bobby that they could be trusted to go on a supply run by themselves. And while the younger woman viewed this as chance to get to know the younger Harvelle woman better, she also relished the opportunity to leave Bobby's house without feeling like someone would try to light her on fire with their eyes. She'd honestly never truly known how free she'd been back home, not until she'd ended up in this warped excuse of a reality, where people gave her the stink-eye if she so much as _breathed_ wrong, or went to use the bathroom without alerting the proper 'authorities'.

The nagging sensation of being _trapped_ chafed against Jesse far more than she would ever care to admit, and it never went away, no matter how far she got from the Winchesters.

In the time that it took Jesse to retrieve her shoes out from under the bed and pull on her jacket over the flannel long-sleeve and t-shirt that she wore before she headed downstairs, Jo had somehow managed to convince Ellen that no, they were not going to get into trouble if she let them use the car. However, things took a downturn as soon as Dean, who hadn't really been paying attention to Jo's efforts to procure the use of the car, spotted Jesse coming down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" the eldest Winchester suddenly said gruffly, and Jesse froze in her tracks as she looked up at the hunter with wide eyes.

"Um… with Jo on a supply run?" she ventured hesitantly as she indicated to the blonde woman, who sported an expression that was a mixture of exasperation and annoyance as she gave Dean a look that indicated she was not pleased with his response. Dean merely glared at her intently, making Jesse feel like she was six again, and in the principal's office after throwing a rock up in the air before it hit someone else on the head. Granted, she was older now and not as easily intimidated, but Dean still made her nervous.

Then again, it was most likely due to the fact that he'd been a flaming asshole to her for the better part of the past week.

"No."

Jesse's eyes widened at the flat-out refusal, and she unintentionally did a very good impression of David Tennant as she gaped in shock at the hunter. "_What_?"

"I said no," Dean stated as he gave Jesse a firm look. "You hard of hearing or something, kiddo? No, you're not leaving here. You think that we're stupid? We all know that you'll just try to cut and run the first chance you get."

Jesse looked like she had just been slapped as she just stared at the older man for quite some time, her mouth popping open slightly in shock. The accusation stung more than a little. She'd been at Bobby's for almost a _week_. She hadn't done anything that indicated towards her trying to escape, much less given anyone else in the house problems. Granted, part of that had come from the fact that she'd been in shock, but still… it wasn't like she was going to try and run away again. Not unless she actually _knew_ that she had a clear shot at a way to get back home, and for the time being it didn't look like that was exactly an option.

The woman finally regained her composure after a few moments as she drew in a shaky breath, although the wearily annoyed look that she shot the eldest Winchester spoke volumes.

"Look, I'm not going to try and run away, okay?" she said quietly, and Dean snorted derisively.

"Bullshit."

For a moment, Jesse winced slightly at the harsh remark before her expression hardened, a defiant light flaring in her eyes as her hands balled into fists and held her arms stiffly by her sides. She'd tried; she had tried so hard to be reasonable, to not lose her temper. And she just _hated_ it whenever Dean looked at her with the kind of disgust she'd only actually seen on screen when they had been dealing with Bela Talbot, or even worse, Ruby. It made her want to just run away until she collapsed, and punch his face in, all at the same time. She wanted to scream "It's not fair; I never _wanted_ this, any of this!" at the top of her lungs, but she couldn't. No matter what she'd do, she'd still be standing there with a purportedly fictional character glaring at her like she was something less than human.

"So what, you're just gonna lock me away here forever, all because you think that I'm some kind of freak of nature?" Jesse demanded, her throat tightening as panic flooded through her at the thought of being permanently enclosed in Singer Salvage, never to be able to see her family again. Dean actually opened his mouth to respond, the look on his face indicating that the answer was 'yes', before the younger woman hut him off. "You can't _do_ that! I'm a human being! I have a family, friends, a… a _life_! I'm not going to let you lock me up in an auto scrap yard a thousand miles from home all because you have a stick up your ass!"

If there was an edge of panic and hysteria to her voice, it wasn't because she was upset over a couple of friggin' _hunters_ deciding to plan out what was going to happen to her. Nope. Not at all.

And if the way that Dean had begun to turn a very fascinating shade of deep red previously unknown to the color spectrum was any indication, he apparently didn't appreciate her protests. What Jesse didn't realize was that their little argument had caught the attention of some of the other occupants in the house until Bobby wheeled his way out of the study and into the hallway, and Sam poked his head out of the kitchen to stare at them. She looked around her at all of the familiar, yet unfamiliar, faces staring at her before she lapsed into a shamed and frustrated silence as she bit down on her lip. Bobby looked deeply annoyed as he glanced in between the brothers, his expression leaning towards an outburst of 'idjits', and if the way Ellen had pursed her lips was any indication, she wasn't too pleased with what had just occurred either. However, Jo was the one to step forward as she broke away from her mother and took a determined stance right next to Jesse, who looked over at the older woman with wide eyes.

"After the hell she's been through with you two, who could blame her if she ran?" she demanded as she propped a hand on her hip, glaring at Dean intently. "She might have read the signs of what's coming, but she isn't prepared for this like a hunter!"

Sam winced slightly at the very pointed accusation, but Dean purpled as the corner of his right eye twitched. Jesse swallowed nervously as she fought the urge to take a step back so as to better get out of blasting range, and instead forced herself to stand her ground. She owed absolutely nothing to this man who treated her like she was something barely worth respect and common consideration, barely tolerating her all because he believed that she wasn't 'normal'. That realization ignited a slow burn of well-placed indignation, giving her the necessary courage to stand her ground in a defiant manner that she would have never used in her own family.

But she wasn't with her family, no matter how strongly Dean reminded her of Andy, no matter how much she wished that she could just wake up and be at home. She was on her own here, and she needed to take matters into her own hands.

"Yeah, we kind of figured that out when she started talking about crap that she had no right knowing!" the hunter snapped, and for one single moment Jesse's entire line of vision went red as a loud rushing noise filled her ears. The woman sucked in a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself down, trembling visibly as she rigidly stared straight ahead. Once she no longer felt like tackling the eldest Winchester and introducing his face to the closest solid object, she spoke.

"Are you seriously pissed off at me just because I read a couple of books written by a prophet who is frequently drunk off his ass?" Jesse asked quietly, her tone strangely level as she stared at the hunter intently, her head canted to the side at a slight angle, almost as though she was attempting to peer into Dean's head just to see how his mind worked. The expression on his face told her all that she needed to know, and the younger woman let out a low growl as she made as though to go for the front door. "Okay, screw this. I think I got treated better when a pissed-off archangel had me stuck in Groundhog Day."

A large hand wrapped around her elbow before she could take more than a step, and Jesse jerked around to glare at Sam, who had a mixture of concern and unease on his face as he looked at her. Fortunately for both of them, the younger Winchester broke off the glaring contest as he gently released Jesse, and instead moved out into the hallway so that he blocked her path to the door.

"Dean, stop being an ass. You're really not helping here," he muttered quietly to his brother as he shot him a warning glance before he returned his attention to the thoroughly-miffed young woman currently attempting to glare a hole through his skull. Bobby and Ellen, wisely enough, decided to stay out of the conversation until they deemed their intervention necessary. "Look… I know that you don't like this, but we're trying to save your life here. We have no idea what kind of attention you may have attracted, and until then you're gonna have to stick around."

For a moment, Jesse looked like she wanted to take his head off before she let out a soft exhalation, wet her lips, and shook her head as she gave Sam a world-weary look that was more than a little bit annoyed.

"Yeah, you may save my sorry ass," she began slowly before her expression hardened, and she held her arms stiffly at her sides as she glared defiantly at the Winchesters, "but who the hell is going to help my family, huh? The Apocalypse is going on full-throttle, and I'm the _only_ one in my entire family who knows what in the hell is going on!" A furious light entered the woman's eyes as parts of her bangs fell into her face, and she glared through her hair up at the two men, her teeth clenched tightly. "My grandmother may believe that God and the angels will help out, but unfortunately, I know better. I'll be _damned_ if I just sit back and let all of this crap reach them, any of them!" Jesse fell silent for a moment before she sighed, apparently trying to calm down a bit. "Look, just… think of it this way. How would you guys like it if you were in my shoes?"

Sam gave her one of his patented bitch-faces as he stared seriously at the younger woman before he briefly closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, clearly trying to remain the calm and collected party.

"Look… I know that this is hard for you, and some of what you're saying does ring true," he said slowly, and Jesse heard Dean snort dismissively behind her even as the younger male rolled his eyes and gave her a kicked-puppy-esque expression, one that said 'we're really doing this for your own good'. On most people, that specific expression would have made them listen to whatever Sam had to say, but all Jesse did was quirk an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her feet slightly. "But even if you want to go home, you're still safer here with us than on your own."

For a few seconds, Jesse's brain backfired upon being faced with the circular logic, as well as the Winchesters' stupidly stubborn refusal to even _consider_ the fact that she _did not belong_ there. However, the young woman quickly recovered her stride as she gave the brothers a flatly disgusted look, and then began to laugh. It wasn't a happy laugh, but more of a bitterly sarcastic one as she glanced in between the two men.

"Ohhh… let me call my dad first, and see how well that one goes over," she drawled sarcastically as she titled her head slightly to the side, a terse, mocking smile on her face, and then mimed talking on a cell phone. "'Yeah, Dad, I have two strange men forcing me to stay with them in an auto salvage yard about 1500 miles from home'." Jesse paused for a moment as she glanced over at the brothers, who both gaped at her in wide-eyed disbelief before she asked a very pointed question. "So, care to take any guesses on how fast he'll get here with a shotgun?"

Apparently the Winchesters hadn't really given all too much thought to the fact that, yes, she had a family, and yes, they would be looking for her. Then again, the odds of her family actually _existing_ here in this craphole reality were pretty much slim to none, but she didn't really want to think about that too much right now. What really mattered was for her to stay out of whatever special brand of trouble the brothers Winchester had found themselves in _this_ time, and then find a way home. She had absolutely no desire to get tangled up in everything involving the Apocalypse any more than she already had, and living long enough to reach her twenty-third birthday, even though it was almost an entire year away, was a really attractive concept. Jesse appeared to look thoughtful for a moment before she amended her previous statement.

"Wait… no, I forgot that Andy and I gave him a Glock for his birthday a couple months ago," she said in the manner of someone who had just remembered an important fact as she made a vague gesture in midair. Besides her, Jo made a noise that sounded like a barely-muffled snort of amusement. "He'll probably use that first. It's smaller than the shotgun."

Surprisingly, Dean was the one to react first as he stepped in front of Jesse and stared at her in shock for a moment, a slight pallor to his face as he finally recognized the truth of the younger woman's statement.

"Shit… I never thought…" he croaked before he gave her an uncertain look. "You have a dad and a brother?"

Jesse stared at him flatly for a moment before she rolled her eyes.

"What, you thought that I just suddenly popped into existence or something?" she retorted dryly as she crossed her arms over her chest, a single eyebrow quirking upwards. "No, I have a mom who is scary in her own way, a dad who likes to put his guns out on the kitchen table and clean them whenever I bring a boy home, and a very protective brother in the Air Force who is roughly around the same size as you." Jesse paused for a moment, deliberately allowing the information to sink in before she smiled tightly at the brothers. "And I've been missing for… _how_ long now?"

The two men shared a long look at that, one with slight hints of panic coupled with the realization that they may have done something incredibly stupid. Off to her left, Jesse heard Bobby give an exasperated snort as he wheeled out a little farther into the room so he could give Sam and Dean the stink eye.

"Idjits," the grizzled hunter muttered gruffly under his breath, and Jesse bit down on her lower lip so no one would see how her lips tried to twitch up into a small smile.

Ellen seemed to be merely watching the whole thing, gathering as much information as she could before she made a decision. Personally, Jesse didn't exactly blame her there. This whole mess was _way_ too complicated for any sane person to figure out, and that was _without_ her being involved. Toss in her issues, and well, things became downright impossible. With a quiet sigh, the art student decided that she should at least attempt to be a little more polite, and preferably not piss off the people who had control over whether or not she could leave.

"Look, I don't care if you give me a ride home, or boot me out the door while saying 'screw you'," Jesse said quietly, trying to sound reasonable as she looked in between Sam and Dean. "All I want to do is go _home_, where the weirdest thing that ever happens is my family occasionally forgetting to clean out the fridge, and then we have to kill the mutated life forms in the containers by dumping them down the disposal." She paused for a moment, and then flashed the two men a small smile. "Sometimes Andy even adds little wails of despair as sound effects."

Besides her, Jo was forced to cover her mouth in an attempt to not laugh as she snorted at the mildly off-color remark. Dean looked mildly torn between snickering at the thought, and disapproving, and Sam merely stared at her. When the younger woman glanced over in the direction that Ellen and Bobby were in, she thought that she saw the gruff hunter's mouth twitch up a bit. It seemed like everyone was waiting to see what the end result of this little battle of wills would be. Granted, it was nothing truly spectacular, but it was probably unusual nonetheless. Finally, the eldest Winchester let out a long sigh as he realized that this entire exchange was most likely making him look like nothing more than a gigantic ass.

"Fine, you can go," he said, and Jesse sighed quietly in relief. Dean immediately jabbed a finger at her as he stared at her sternly. "But if you run…"

The younger woman rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest, favoring the older man with a wry look.

"Yeah, yeah, my ass is grass and you're the flamethrower," she said flatly as she uncrossed her arms and shoved them into her jacket pockets. "I get the picture."

Ellen chuckled quietly from where she was stationed against the frame of the kitchen door, and shot Dean a knowing look from where she stood, although Jesse couldn't help but wonder if there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Careful where you're pointing that finger, boy," she warned as her mouth twitched up into a small smile. "If she bites you, you're on your own."

For a moment, there was dumbfounded silence as everyone all stared at the woman in surprise, although Bobby looked deeply amused by the remark. Then Jesse burst out laughing for several seconds, took a deep breath to calm down, and then deliberately deepened the laughter into a maniacal cackle as she grinned widely at Dean. It was more than a bit satisfying to watch the hunter look slightly startled by her action.

"No worries, I already got my rabies shot," Jesse chirped as she grinned cheerfully at the eldest Winchester before her expression suddenly became thoughtful and sharply tilted her head to the side momentarily as she indicated to Dean. "Now distemper on the other hand… _that_ might be some cause for concern."

Dean made a choking noise in the back of his throat as he stared at her in the manner that was typically reserved for crazy people. For some reason, Sam seemed to have no such reservations as he turned his head slightly and gave an amused snort, a small smile crossing his face. Apparently he got the fact that, yes, Jesse was indeed deliberately being a little smartass and milking the situation for all that it was worth. The _really_ funny part was that she really already had gotten a rabies shot. It was one of the vaccinations she'd needed when she had worked for the vet she interned under the summer after her freshman year of college.

When no reply seemed to be soon in coming, the art student used that to her advantage as she smirked cheekily at Dean.

"Then again, if I were you, I'd be worried more about Mad Cow disease," she said before she eyed the man thoughtfully. "Especially with all the burgers you eat."

That seemed to do it as he seemed to snap out of it and began to all but shove her towards the front door.

"O-kay, cute, real cute," Dean drawled as he pushed Jesse towards the front door. "Yeah, go on your little supply run. Get out of our hair, and stay with Jo. If you disappear on her, so help me, I'll send Cas to hunt you down again, and make sure that he drags you back here flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes." The older male flashed her a brief grin that had more than a hint of a threat to it, but it was a bit more mocking and not nearly as serious as it had been a little while ago. "Bye now."

And with that lovely parting remark, Jesse found herself standing out on the front porch to Bobby's house in the chilly November afternoon air. Seconds later Jo joined her on the porch, and the younger woman turned around to stare at her in a kind of stunned silence as the door was shut behind them. For a moment the two women merely stared at each other, and then glanced back at the house before they were forced to stifle giggles. Without saying anything, Jo seized Jesse by the arm and dragged her over towards what the younger woman assumed to be the Harvelle's car.

It was only once they were safely ensconced inside the vehicle, with Jesse sitting in the passenger seat, that they both burst out laughing. Jesse, who probably hadn't really laughed since before she had accidentally wandered into the warehouse in Ohio, ended up laughing so hard that she cried as she leaned against the passenger side door. Once the two women had finally calmed down, Jo started up the car as she glanced over at her supply run 'buddy'.

"Did you see his face when you implied that you might have distemper?" she chuckled as she gave a broad grin, easily shifting gears as they pulled out of the front driveway to the salvage yard. Jesse immediately burst out into quiet laughter once again as she covered her mouth with one hand, trying futilely to quell the rising amusement. Once she had a calmed down a bit, but still not trusting herself to speak, the young woman nodded once in agreement.

Jo smirked again as she headed off down the road to town, already plotting further mayhem.

* * *

The supply run had been fairly average, with perhaps the exception of the stop at the music store before the supplies were purchased to make the gag tape for the Impala. Jesse and Jo finally agreed on Lady Gaga's _Paparazzi_ as the tune of choice, and positioned the tape at a prime spot for Dean to have an aneurism. Somehow, neither woman thought that he'd be too happy to be greeted with the lyrics of 'I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me' the second he turned on the radio, especially considering his and Sam's history with the fans of the books. All they had to do was stay out of strangling range once their little prank went off.

As for the actual supplies, the two stocked up on road salt, ammunition, and various other necessities required for battling the end of the world. Food was also purchased, although Jo almost died from shock when she found that Jesse was twenty-two, and very rarely drank when the other woman requested that they get a four-pack of root beer for her. The college student had merely shrugged almost sheepishly in response before she explained her logic behind it.

"I just don't like the taste of alcohol all that much," she'd admitted with a small laugh that showed she had gotten over the initial embarrassment of the incident enough to joke about it. "The only time I really drink is when my dad makes margaritas, and that doesn't happen all that often." She then winced slightly as she glanced over at the hunter, a tinge of embarrassment to her expression. "Well, that, and I'm a lightweight. Just this summer, we were in San Diego, and my dad made margaritas before we went out to dinner while we were at the hotel, and he accidentally put a full shot in mine instead of half a shot. I was really loopy for a bit until we ate some real food."

Jo had ended up staring at her in shock for almost a full minute before she started laughing so hard that she cried.

Unfortunately, the rest of the day wasn't as lighthearted as that afternoon. That evening, Jo, Sam, and Dean – with Castiel's help – found the location of a demon named Crowley who was supposed to have the Colt, and Jesse was left behind at the salvage yard with Ellen and Bobby to help out with piddly preparations for whatever insane stunt the Winchesters were planning. Jesse, upon hearing said demon's name, had immediately burst into almost uncontrollable sniggers for several seconds before she had been forced to explain to the two older hunters just what she thought was so funny. Surprisingly, Ellen had heard of _Good Omens_ before since she'd once read it out of curiosity not too long after the initial publish date.

However, Jesse also knew all too well that this world's version of Crowley wouldn't be anything like his literary counterpart. First of all, she had absolutely no intention of trusting a demon – after all, Sam trusting Ruby was what had helped lead to this whole fiasco in the first place – and she'd heard rumors from various sources all over the Internet back in her world on just _what_ Crowley was like. And, of course, everything in this reality was a darker, infinitely more dangerous version of what it was back where she was from. Part of Jesse wished that she could have the comfort of knowing that everything out there was merely regulated to the pages of books, instead of a real, tangible threat that could either kill her in some horrible, gruesome way or turn her into something like it.

So if she ran into a demon here, she'd do her damndest to stall it – an exorcism, holy water, salt, _anything_ – before she took off like the hounds of Hell were hot on her heels.

Even as she sat on the couch, watching Ellen prep shotgun shells to be packed with salt, Jesse shuddered faintly. To be honest, she really wanted to go home before she ran into anything else that would most likely want to kill her. She'd already met two angels – and the really sad part was that they were probably the nicer ones out there – and ghosts. That right there was enough for her. Running into Hellhounds, Lucifer, any more angels, or demons… well, the thought alone scared the ever-loving crap out of her.

As the woman sat there and watched the two hunters make salt rounds, part of her silently wondered if she would even survive long enough to make it home.

* * *

On Wednesday night, Jesse sat perched next to Jo, nursing a bottle of root beer as the two of them watched Ellen and Castiel engage in a drinking contest. So far, the angel had managed to put away an insane amount of alcohol by drinking all five shots of whiskey in his row, whereas Ellen had only drank three. It was mind blowing in so many ways, and slightly disconcerting. With the exception of maybe Gabriel, who had most likely _invented_ hedonism, she'd never once imagined that she'd see an angel doing shots.

Then again, if the story that Dean had regaled to Jo previously was any indication, that wasn't the only thing Castiel had done recently. Although it didn't surprise her in the least that Cas had gotten both himself and Dean thrown out of a brothel. Although it did beg the question of _why_ exactly Dean had dragged an angel of the Lord into a house of ill-repute.

Oh, wait, never mind, it was Dean. Question answered.

Even as the woman sat there, swinging her legs slightly in an aimless manner as she watched the proceedings distractedly, Jo leaned over towards her with a small grin.

"By the way, Mom just wanted me to let you know that when we get to Carthage tomorrow, we'll be putting you on a bus to Phoenix," the blonde hunter stated quietly, and Jesse immediately spun around to face her with wide-eyed shock. For several seconds, nothing coherent could come out of her mouth before she gave a small, relieved smile even as a quiet huff of laughter escaped from her.

"Really?" she asked quietly, and Jo smirked faintly in response.

"Really, really."

The younger woman let out a dramatic groan as she gently shoved Jo, delivering a half-hearted punch to the shoulder even as she raised her eyebrows. Trust a hunter to make a _Shrek_ reference, even if it was a groan-worthy one. Then again, she really had left herself wide open for it. Jesse didn't really mind though – it was a welcome change to have someone to laugh and joke around with rather than just be ignored.

"That was a bad joke," Jesse muttered, although there was no heat in her voice as she shook her head and smiled. However, she perked up a bit as she looked at Jo curiously. "So… I'll get to go home tomorrow?"

Jo shrugged slightly in return. "Well, I don't know about home, but you'll definitely be on your way."

With a quiet cheer, the woman made a fist-pumping motion, and promptly yelped as she almost lost her grip on the root beer bottle as the condensation on the glass made it slip right out of her hand. Fortunately, Jesse immediately clapped her legs together in reflex, and managed to catch the glass bottle between her legs before it fell any further and spilled, or shattered. She let out a shaky laugh as she reached down and retrieved her drink, briefly flashing Jo a mildly sheepish smile.

"Smooth," the older woman drawled, and Jesse shrugged as she offered her friend a crooked grin.

"Have I mentioned that I'm a klutz?"

Jo only laughed and shook her head before she hopped off of her chair and headed for the kitchen, presumably to find a replacement for the empty beer bottle in her hand. With a quiet sigh, Jesse sat back and watched the ongoing battle between Ellen and Castiel for dominance over the coveted title of Shot Glass Champion, or whatever they had decided to call it to justify getting absolutely plastered. So far, Cas was winning. The young woman smirked inwardly as she tried her best not to burst out laughing. Holy alcohol tolerance, you gotta love it. However, the admittedly amusing scene was disrupted by a loud grumble from the other side of the cramped living room.

"Everybody get in here!" Bobby called out as he continued to fiddle away with a camera of some kind set up on a tripod. "It's time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner."

With a quiet groan and a roll of her eyes, Ellen got up from her spot at the table and reluctantly wandered over into the living room, where Sam was already standing in the pre-determined corner, a look of resigned amusement on his face.

"Oh come on, Bobby," she grumped good-naturedly. "Nobody wants their picture taken."

"Hear, hear," Sam piped up, and both were rewarded with a truly spectacular stink-eye from Bobby as the older man raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"Shut up. You're drinking my beer."

Jesse ducked her head slightly so no one could see the smile on her face as she laughed softly at the older man's logic. To be honest, it was pretty sound logic. After all, Dresden and his role-playing buddies had the 'He who kills the cheer buys the beer' rule. It was only logical that Bobby would have a similar rule in place. It was roughly around that moment that the woman realized that she was comparing _Supernatural_ to the _Dresden Files_, and she was currently stuck _in_ a TV show about a certain pair of hunters. Jesse immediately forced her mind away from the subject, wincing mentally. She knew far too well what kind of crap a certain wizard/private detective got into, and did _not_ want to be in any more trouble than she already was. In the time that she'd been musing, Castiel, Jo and Dean had joined the small group in the corner even while Bobby continued to fiddle with the camera.

"Anyways, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by," he continued. By that point, everyone with the exception of Castiel was smiling in preparation for the picture.

"Ha! Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen snorted before she gave the man an exasperated look. "Bobby, quit foolin' around with the damn camera and let the kid take the picture." She glanced over at Jesse, her expression indicating that she was the 'kid' in question. "C'mon, get over here and take the picture before we all die of old age."

The artist immediately set down her drink and hopped out of her seat before she trotted over towards the tripod. Just when she had reached the camera and was about to snap the photo, Castiel spoke up.

"Bobby's right," he intoned gravely, his expression serious. "Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth."

Everyone's smiles disappeared at that oh-so reassuring remark, and Jesse felt her gut begin to churn anxiously at the mere mention of Lucifer, a steady sinking feeling developing deep in the pit of her stomach even as the camera flashed.

* * *

Hello there everyone, and um… sorry for the wait?

Look, I'm sorry for how long this chapter took to come out, I really am, but I hit a nasty writer's block on this one. I didn't know how to word what I wanted to happen, real life decided to be a bitch when it came to work and responsibilities, and I had a _wonderful_ summer this year. I had more trips to the vet this summer than I ever wanted to endure, thanks to a few choice incidents with accidents involving my dogs, and one of my other pets died. So, this summer was kind of a crappy one in some aspects, and just outright busy in others. But, I do want to thank everyone who reviewed and helped cheer me on through the entire thing.

First of all, a _huge_ shout-out to Aunt Mo, for allowing me to probably bore her to tears with all of the scene planning that she helped me do, and letting me bounce questions off of her when it came to scenarios, and how certain people should act. Seriously, she is absolutely _brilliant_, and is one of the main reasons for this story continuing the way it has.

Second, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter… which was posted all of three months ago. Yeah, I know, I took a long time.

Anyways… thank you to Maddy Love Castiel, NjoyingNsanity, xEllekex, scorpiustar, BK-201-D11, Shinaria, PutDownYourGuns, xBlossom, Smiling Loki, Yodes, Sonny, C'est La Vie Mon Amour, TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel, Mithya Aviana Cailin, I Lost A Bet To Madra, Anonymous, and AuntMo! Thank you everyone, and I hope to see you all soon.

And yes, I do really hope that I get the next chapter done a whole hell of a lot faster.


	11. Chapter 11: Abandon All Hope, Ye Who

_I'll make a soldier's decision to fly away_  
_Load my gun, paint my face, call me misery_  
_I can see the sky light up and the ground explode_  
_Got my sights locked in, I can see you breathe_  
_Then I watched you fall and somebody scream_  
_It's the saddest thing when angels fly away_

_I can't be home tonight, I'll make it back, it's alright_  
_No one could ever love me half as good as you_

-"When Angels Fly Away" by **Cold**

"The world has teeth and it can bite you with them any time it wants." – Stephen King

**Chapter Eleven:**

**Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here**

_**Then:**_

_With a quiet cheer, the woman made a fist-pumping motion, and promptly yelped as she almost lost her grip on the root beer bottle as the condensation on the glass made it slip right out of her hand. Fortunately, Jesse immediately clapped her legs together in reflex, and managed to catch the glass bottle between her legs before it fell any further and spilled, or shattered. She let out a shaky laugh as she reached down and retrieved her drink, briefly flashing Jo a mildly sheepish smile._

"_Smooth," the older woman drawled, and Jesse shrugged as she offered her friend a crooked grin._

"_Have I mentioned that I'm a klutz?"_

_Jo only laughed and shook her head before she hopped off of her chair and headed for the kitchen, presumably to find a replacement for the empty beer bottle in her hand. With a quiet sigh, Jesse sat back and watched the ongoing battle between Ellen and Castiel for dominance over the coveted title of Shot Glass Champion, or whatever they had decided to call it to justify getting absolutely plastered. So far, Cas was winning. The young woman smirked inwardly as she tried her best not to burst out laughing. Holy alcohol tolerance, you gotta love it. However, the admittedly amusing scene was disrupted by a loud grumble from the other side of the cramped living room._

"_Everybody get in here!" Bobby called out as he continued to fiddle away with a camera of some kind set up on a tripod. "It's time for the lineup. Usual suspects in the corner."_

_With a quiet groan and a roll of her eyes, Ellen got up from her spot at the table and reluctantly wandered over into the living room, where Sam was already standing in the pre-determined corner, a look of resigned amusement on his face._

"_Oh come on, Bobby," she grumped good-naturedly. "Nobody wants their picture taken."_

"_Hear, hear," Sam piped up, and both were rewarded with a truly spectacular stink-eye from Bobby as the older man raised his eyebrows pointedly._

"_Shut up. You're drinking my beer."_

_Jesse ducked her head slightly so no one could see the smile on her face as she laughed softly at the older man's logic. To be honest, it was pretty sound logic. After all, Dresden and his role-playing buddies had the 'He who kills the cheer buys the beer' rule. It was only logical that Bobby would have a similar rule in place. It was roughly around that moment that the woman realized that she was comparing _Supernatural_to the _Dresden Files_, and she was currently stuck __**in **__a TV show about a certain pair of hunters. Jesse immediately forced her mind away from the subject, wincing mentally. She knew far too well what kind of crap a certain wizard/private detective got into, and did __**not**__ want to be in any more trouble than she already was. In the time that she'd been musing, Castiel, Jo and Dean had joined the small group in the corner even while Bobby continued to fiddle with the camera._

"_Anyways, I'm gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by," he continued. By that point, everyone with the exception of Castiel was smiling in preparation for the picture._

"_Ha! Always good to have an optimist around," Ellen snorted before she gave the man an exasperated look. "Bobby, quit foolin' around with the damn camera and let the kid take the picture." She glanced over at Jesse, her expression indicating that she was the 'kid' in question. "C'mon, get over here and take the picture before we all die of old age."_

_The artist immediately set down her drink and hopped out of her seat before she trotted over towards the tripod. Just when she had reached the camera and was about to snap the photo, Castiel spoke up._

"_Bobby's right," he intoned gravely, his expression serious. "Tomorrow we hunt the devil. This is our last night on earth."_

_Everyone's smiles disappeared at that oh-so reassuring remark, and Jesse felt her gut begin to churn anxiously at the mere mention of Lucifer, a steady sinking feeling developing deep in the pit of her stomach even as the camera flashed._

**Now:**

Getting ready for the ride to Carthage had been… _interesting_, to say the least.

Jesse had piled into the backseat of the Harvelle's car at the ass-crack of dawn, armed with her backpack and the change of clothes that she had purchased what seemed like ages ago tucked into a small tote bag that Jo had dug up from somewhere, along with the other clothing that she and the other woman had obtained the day previous. Ellen was driving, Jo was riding shotgun… and Castiel was sitting in the backseat next to her. The young woman merely gave Cas a long, slightly wary look before she made sure to stay on _her_ side of the backseat, right behind Jo. Sam and Dean were driving the Impala, as per usual, and when they had started up the Chevy, both Jesse and Jo had gotten a good, long look at the eldest Winchester's reaction to hearing Lady Gaga come out of _his_ stereo speakers.

He completely _flipped out_.

The art student had never seen someone scramble to turn off their stereo so fast, but that was only after Dean had tried to switch from the 'radio' to the cassette tape. The look of absolute horror on his face when he realized that the god-awful pop tune was _coming_ from a cassette was absolutely priceless, and Jesse had been forced to duck down in her seat so she could safely laugh her ass off without being seen. Jo, however, had no such reservations, and immediately began to start laughing hysterically at the sight, much to Castiel's bemusement. Then again, Jesse had probably already confused him by ducking out of sight before she began to laugh like a maniac.

Fortunately, Dean was too busy yelling at his brother for 'pranking' him to notice the two younger women in hysterics in the other car as he pulled out of the salvage yard, with Ellen following behind them. The older woman stayed silent for a few moments as she stared long and hard at first her daughter, and then at the other girl in the backseat, before she let out a soft huff of exasperation.

"Alright, what did you two do?" she finally asked, and somehow Jesse managed to school her face into an expression that was hopefully a passable imitation of innocent. She barely noticed that up in the front seat, Jo was doing the exact same thing.

"Nothing," the two younger women chorused almost in perfect synchronization, before they looked at each other in surprise and promptly burst into helpless giggles once again. After a moment of staring at them intently, Ellen settled for sighing and shaking her head as she returned her attention to the road in front of them, muttering something under her breath about how she wasn't sure that she wanted to know now. This response only prompted more hysterical giggles, with Jesse curling inwards slightly as she clutched at her aching ribs, tears of mirth streaming from her eyes as she laughed like she hadn't in weeks.

Once Jesse and Jo had finally settled down, Castiel glanced in between them curiously before he spoke up.

"Is this what Dean meant by women being confusing?"

* * *

For the most part, the rest of the drive was relatively peaceful, at least after the initial chaos that followed in the wake of the highly successful prank. Jesse used the opportunity to catch up on some desperately-needed sleep, especially since it was just a little over eight hours between Singer Salvage and Carthage, and she had very little else to do other than listen to music or sleep, and she couldn't really read anything because the only books she had in her backpack were textbooks. The other occupants of the car didn't talk too much either, with maybe the exception of Ellen quietly laying out what they were going to do when they arrived at Carthage, and Castiel occasionally adding something to what the human woman had already stated. It was a unique experience in some ways, and yet so very different from the car trips that Jesse was used to taking with her family.

If she'd been with her family, Jesse would have been sharing the backseat with Andy and his teasing, snarky remarks, not a socially awkward angel that had a very disturbing tendency to stare intently at someone for a prolonged amount of time. Her mom would have been driving, because she got carsick if she wasn't, and occasionally dictating to her dad over in the front passenger seat what CD she wanted him to put in. Smokey would most likely have been curled up on the seat in between Jesse and her brother, the black and white Sheltie napping the ride away and enjoying the opportunity to be the sole dog in the family for a little bit while Sandy, their German Shepherd, waited for them back at home under the care of a neighbor. That being said, Jesse missed her family, in all of their insane, completely mental glory, more than she could ever possibly begin to describe.

She missed how her mom would come home late after a long day of teaching science to twelve and thirteen-year-olds, and tell stories that were both exasperating and amusing about events that occurred over the course of the day, involving students, occasionally parents, and sometimes even co-workers. She missed how her dad would tell incredibly inappropriate jokes at the dinner table, and make wise-ass one-liners in an attempt to make Jesse or Marie do a spit-take or make whatever they were drinking come out of their nose. Marie always said that it wasn't a normal dinner at the Harper household unless someone choked on their food or had milk come out their nose at least once. Granted, Andy had somehow managed to raise the bar on that particular stunt once by pure accident when he had made their Uncle Max, a prankster in his own right, snort beer out his nose after making a seemingly innocent comment, but that was a story for another time.

Eventually, the artist slid into an easy doze, her head propped up against the door as she allowed the steady hum of the engine and the familiar sounds of machinery all working together to power a vehicle across the country to lull her to sleep.

Jesse only slept for a little over an hour, but it was long enough to dispel some of the irritating grogginess that had lingered after the positively evil wake-up call of five in the morning before they left Bobby's an hour later. Her internal clock had already began to set itself to the necessary wake up of six in the morning so she could be at her 7:40 Drawing class on time, but the past few weeks had thrown a major wrench into things. When Jo noticed that the younger woman was awake, she grinned faintly at the sight before she drew Jesse into a conversation about college, and her 'dying' curiosity over what exactly being a Drawing major entailed.

It was little more than idle chit-chat, but it kept them occupied and helped pass the time until Ellen pulled into a gas station roughly two hours away from their intended destination. As soon as the older woman announced that they were stopping to refuel and use the restroom, Jesse unbuckled her seatbelt and was out of the vehicle faster than anyone could blink, wanting nothing more than the chance to stretch her legs and walk around for a bit. Jo soon joined her, and the two women went into the back of the gas station after being directed to the bathrooms by the attendant.

As soon as the artist had exited the lavatory, she stretched languidly; her spine making faint popping noises even as a quiet groan escaped from her mouth. Jesse had always been a very active person, although what had been pure hyperness as a child had eventually settled down into a steady stream of energy that, while at times useful, made it difficult for her to sit still for extended periods of time. Even during a lecture, she would always be shifting in her seat, tapping her foot, drumming her fingers on the desktop, or jiggling her leg in an attempt to burn off some of the energy that would be running through her.

"Stiff?" Jo asked suddenly from behind her, and Jesse jerked slightly in surprise as she turned around to face the older woman before she offered her a small shrug.

"A little," she admitted. "It's been a while since I've been on a long car trip. Probably since the summer, actually."

Jo laughed quietly at the slightly wry remark, a small smile flickering across her face before she gave the artist a mildly conspiratorial look.

"You up for some snacks?" she said after a moment, and of course Jesse's stomach chose that exact moment to let out a low growl as she remembered the bowl full of oatmeal that she'd bolted down at 5 am. Not exactly her breakfast of choice, but she hadn't said one word about it one way or the other. Well, except when she'd attempted to eat only an apple for breakfast, and Ellen had called her out on it. The last time she'd been that embarrassed, well… it had involved getting a 'D' in her high school French class and the resulting lecture that had followed.

Before either woman could speak, the relatively calm silence of the gas station convenience store was disrupted by Dean barging inside; a cassette tape clenched tightly in one hand, and a look of righteous fury on his face. Jesse glanced over at the older man, who looked around the store for a moment before he spotted them and stalked over, trying to look innocent even as she alerted Jo to the 'danger'.

"Uh, I think someone's a little pissed off," she said in an appropriately wry undertone, and the other woman snorted in response.

"And that's any different from when?" Jo asked rhetorically with a shrug.

"True."

It was then that Dean reached them and stopped dead for a moment, glaring at the two younger women before he held up the prank tape up in the air meaningfully. Jesse was the first one to speak up as she eyed the cassette tape in the hunter's hand with a healthy degree of confusion, with just a dash of skepticism and dry humor for some flavor.

"Is there any specific reason why you're pointing a cassette tape at us like its Excalibur?" she asked dryly as she cocked an eyebrow, and the eldest Winchester immediately acquired a slight tinge of purple to his complexion as he glared at her.

"Okay, which one of you put this-" he brandished the prank tape that she and Jo had created back in Sioux Falls not even three days ago at them, and Jesse had to bite the inside of her cheek in order to refrain from smirking "-in my baby?"

Jesse and Jo exchanged looks, and then returned their attention to Dean without even batting an eye. Their refusal to talk, or to admit their crimes seemed to only aggravate the older man even more, because he looked fit to be tied as he gave both women the mother of all stink eyes, accusation in his very posture before he jabbed a finger at them accusingly.

"You two have been buddy-buddy practically since Ellen and Jo have arrived," he growled as he focused his attention on Jesse, as though that single statement explained everything.

The younger woman stared at Dean for several seconds as she folded her arms over her chest and eyed him flatly.

"Gee, do you think that maybe it has something to do with the fact that she isn't spewing testosterone everywhere?" she asked pointedly, a mildly sarcastic undertone to her voice as she quirked an eyebrow. Her rather impudent response apparently didn't exactly endear her to the hunter, because he flushed slightly in a show of temper as he scowled darkly.

"You've been up to something, that's why you went out on the supply run!" Dean snapped as he jabbed a finger at her. "Just admit it!"

Off to their side, Jo gave an incredibly inelegant snort at the older man's accusation as she observed Dean wryly.

"Yeah, we needed supplies for this trip, _and_ Jesse needed clothes, which you obviously didn't even think about since you guys just grabbed her and never let her out of your sight," the blonde woman noted almost sarcastically as she gave the other hunter a meaningful look.

It was roughly around that moment that a practically _evil_ idea dawned upon Jesse as she recalled some of Dean's similarities to Andy, and that line of thought immediately let to the one thing that had always successfully shut her little brother up whenever he was being an ass. The art student gave rocked back on her heels slightly as she gave Dean a smile that only the truly innocent or deeply wicked could ever successfully manage.

"Well…" she drawled slowly, glancing over at Jo and briefly quirking her lips up into a small, knowing smile, "if you _really_ wanted to go on a tampon run with us, all you had to do was ask."

Not surprisingly, Dean, like the vast majority of the male population, balked at the mere mention of the dreaded female 'monthly curse' and paled slightly for a few moments before he seemed to regain a little bit of his bravado... but not too much.

"I… uh… _no_," he stammered as he looked back and forth between the two women before he composed himself and leveled a pointed glare in Jesse's direction as he tried to loom over her in what he apparently thought was a menacing manner. "_You_… one, no _both_ of you messed with my baby, which is not to be touched, _especially_ by civilians!"

Before things could escalate further, Ellen fortunately chose that moment to casually meander over towards the three of them after paying for gas and purchasing something at the counter, her expression a study of bland curiosity and faint aggravation as she looked at all of them before focusing her attention on Dean.

"What's going on, Dean?" she asked in that gruffly no-nonsense tone of hers as she gave the younger man a reproving look. If Jesse could have bet money on Ellen being able to stop a barroom brawl dead in its tracks with that tone of voice, she would have. "You got a problem with the girls?"

For one moment, Dean looked like he wanted nothing more than to just spill out what had taken place before it apparently dawned upon him just how petty it would sound for him to get worked up over a prank tape. Instead, he looked in between the elder Harvelle woman, then over at Jesse and Jo, and then back at Ellen, before he groaned quietly underneath his breath.

"No. I just… _agh_!" he said oh-so-eloquently before he turned around and stormed off towards the front door, growling something that did not sound pleasant under his breath.

The two younger women watched him go with a small bit of relief. Even though Jesse knew that Dean was more indignant that legitimately pissed off over the fact that they had messed with the Impala, it still got on her nerves that he treated her as though she was little more than a nuisance. The one thing that she was thankful for this time around was the fact that she had someone else in her corner to help play hardball with the hunter so she wouldn't lose her temper like she had been earlier. Maybe it was just the environment that she was in, or she was overly stressed or something, but she'd been losing her temper quite a bit over the past few weeks.

Then again… standing up to a couple of already-paranoid hunters with an Apocalypse on their hands, and facing a cranky, abrasively sarcastic archangel who had been hiding out as a Norse Trickster for the past two millennia… well, if that wasn't stressful, she didn't know what was.

When Ellen looked at them meaningfully, clearly expecting that either Jo or Jesse explain just exactly what had happened.

"He needed some Midol, and wanted to know if we had any," Jesse finally said as innocently as she could, and off to her left she heard Jo barely manage to suppress an amused snicker. Somehow, she got the feeling that if Sam had been present when she'd made the comment, he would have been laughing his ass off; after all, Dean was usually the one accusing Sam of being a girl. Ellen didn't seem to see the humor in the remark, because she raised her eyebrow as she eyed the two younger women in a mildly reproving manner.

"Okay girl, you've had your fun," she said seriously as she shook her head. "I expect you two to leave those boys alone now, and concentrate on what's ahead of us."

Jo sobered almost immediately at the mention of what they would face in Carthage, and Jesse wasn't too far behind her as she paled slightly at the reminder of where they were headed.

"Okay."

"Yes ma'am," Jesse said quietly as she nodded once.

Ellen looked the two of them over once, a sad look in her eyes, before she turned around and headed back outside. Jo looked over at Jesse, who suddenly didn't feel quite up to joking around anymore, before she flashed the younger woman a somewhat strained smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring.

"So, Chex Mix or trail mix?" she asked abruptly.

* * *

When they all drove into Carthage at almost three o'clock later that afternoon, the relatively clear blue sky overhead had become overcast, and everything had taken on a gray tinge. The entire atmosphere of the town had taken on a depressing air, and Jesse shuddered instinctively as a disturbing chill ran down her spine. Carthage was supposed to be a town of almost 14 thousand people, and yet everything was abandoned, as though the town's inhabitants had been spirited away by something, and there wasn't even a stray dog in sight.

No animals running loose, not even the stray survivor looking around to see if they could find someone else who had survived whatever had swept through the town. Everything was deserted, and it gave Jesse the creeping willies.

To be honest, it reminded her of a horror movie that she had once been forced to watch roughly a year ago during a movie night with her cousins. In fact, if she remembered correctly, she had literally thanked God under her breath as quietly as she could when the rental DVD from the Blockbuster by Lance, Brighid, and Fiona's house froze halfway through the movie due to extreme scratching on the disk. Sure, Andy and her cousins had been a bit pissed off, but she couldn't have been more relieved. The movie had freaked her out to the point that she had been seated on the floor, hugging Lance's elderly Golden Retriever for comfort as she tried her best to meld into the side of the couch.

And right now, she was _living_ in a horror movie… well, technically.

"If I see any of the _28 Weeks_ Later zombies, I swear, I will be _gone_," she said shakily as she tried to press herself deeper into the seat.

Knowing how her luck had gone thus far, there _would_ be zombies.

"Somehow, I don't think that zombies are your biggest worry right now, kid," Ellen said dourly as she clenched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, her eyes slowly darting back and forth as she scanned the road ahead of her.

The art student stole a nervous glance over at the grim-looking angel sitting in the back seat next to her, and Castiel's expression as he peered out at the deserted street only cemented the facts for her. A quick look over at Jo, who sat stiffly in the front passenger seat, her lips pressed together thinly, only made things worse. Somehow, Jesse seriously doubted that she would be going anywhere, much less getting on a bus to Phoenix.

It had been a long shot. Hell, she knew that she had been grasping at straws from the beginning when she'd first thought of the idea that maybe if she went to her home state, went to the exact spot that she had disappeared from her art history classroom, then maybe she would be able to go home. But, as mentioned previously, it had been a long shot, and a desperate hope at best. For now she needed to stay focused on not dying. Dying sucked, and it usually tended to be pretty painful, especially in the _Supernatural_ 'verse. She could concoct some other crazy plan later, preferably when there wasn't the possible danger of something creepy trying to chew through her skull.

Then again, if that didn't work out, her only other option was to return to the warehouse in Wellington, Ohio, and she _definitely_ did not want to return to that place. God Himself only knew what could be lying in wait back there.

"I'm not going home, am I?" she asked almost tonelessly as she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

Up front, Jo gave a mirthless chuckle. "Not unless you feel up to hotwiring a car and driving cross-country, or something. Call it a hunch if you want, because somehow, I don't think that the busses are running right now."

The younger woman gave a wry snort in response. Forget busses – it looked like the only operating vehicles were the ones that they had driven into Carthage themselves. Before she could say anything, Ellen pulled up next to the Impala and rolled down her window. Sam, who was holding a cell phone in his hand in an obvious attempt to get some kind of signal, offered the older woman a grim smile that clearly displayed his lack of amusement over the situation as he retracted his hand and put his cell phone away.

"Place seem a little empty to you?" Ellen asked dryly as she scanned the surrounding buildings with a cautious gaze. Dean responded with a demeaning snort at the blatantly obvious remark as he peered around his brother to look at the older woman.

"We're gonna go check out the PD," the elder Winchester said by way of explanation. "You guys stay here; see if you can find anybody."

As the Impala pulled away from them, and Ellen began to look for an appropriate place to park, Jesse allowed the back of her head to collide with the headrest, a quiet groan escaping from her throat as she stared up at the ceiling of the car. Jo curiously looked back at her, a hint of concern on her face as she stared at the art student worriedly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and Jesse let out a harsh sigh as she looked over at her friend, her expression pained even as she fought the urge to shudder at the thought of what may lie further into the town.

"This place, the atmosphere, everything… it feels like a horror movie," Jesse said hollowly before she straightened up in her seat and finally allowed herself to indulge in a full-body shudder. "I _hate_ horror movies."

Surprisingly, Castiel was the one who responded to her remark.

"I do not understand why some humans seem to be fond of frightening themselves," he said slowly as he looked over at Jesse, tilting his head slightly to the side as his voice took on a mildly confused tone. "Most do not enjoy being scared, am I correct?"

There was a chorus of derisive snorts from the three women in the car even as Jesse rolled her eyes, looking mildly annoyed at the thought.

"Uh, no… not really," she said wryly before she shrugged. "I know some people who like 'em, but I'm not one of them. Actually, they freak me out pretty badly. I'm not really fond of being scared by some Hollywood gore-fest slasher movie, or whatever else they manage to come up with. If something's going to come after me, I'd rather try and kick its ass then run away screaming like a ninny."

"Yeah, that's 'cause if you run away screaming, whatever's after you can always find you from the screams," Jo remarked candidly from the front seat, and the younger woman pulled a face in response even as Ellen parked next to a curb.

Almost immediately, once she had cautiously checked to see that nothing nasty was anywhere in sight – although she highly doubted that Ellen would park anywhere near some supernatural fugly – Jesse hopped out of the vehicle and stretched, bones popping quietly in reply. While Jo busied herself with rather pointedly asking Castiel whether or not he knew how to use a door – since the angel had neglected to use it in favor of just teleporting himself outside of the vehicle, the art student peered at the deserted buildings across the street from her and grimaced faintly.

"This is a _charming_ spot," she muttered sardonically under her breath as she quoted a line from a movie. She didn't remember which movie it was from, but it seemed aptly appropriate. "Does Jack the Ripper live here?"

"Only if he's some kind of immortal fugly," Jo piped up suddenly from behind her, causing the art student to jump a good six inches in the air from surprise. When the younger woman turned around to give her a look that very plainly stated that she thought the hunter was trying to give her a heart attack, Jo merely smirked at her faintly in reply. Before the two of them could say anything however, Castiel abruptly stiffened as he stared intently at… well, nothing that Jesse could actually see.

Slowly, the angel scanned the entire street with a grave expression on his face, and even though it didn't exactly look like he was nervous, whatever he was seeing obviously bugged him.

"What is it, Cas?" Ellen asked suddenly, and blue eyes briefly flicked over in her direction before Castiel returned his attention to whatever he was staring at that they all couldn't see.

"This town's not empty," he stated gravely, and Jesse couldn't help the shudder of dread that went through her at the angel's words. As far as she knew, there were only two things that she knew of that couldn't be seen by the mortal eye unless under extenuating circumstances. To be bluntly honest, she didn't know if it was worse to be able to see them coming, or not.

"Hellhounds or a reaper?" she asked almost timidly before she could even think about stopping the words from slipping past her lips, a good-sized part of her afraid of the answer. When two hunters and an angel all whipped around to stare at her like she had just announced that she had scientific proof that the moon was made out of green cheese, Jesse managed a sheepish, almost pained smile as she shrugged half-heartedly. "I read all of the books, remember?"

Castiel seemed to consider that for a scant moment before he let out a quiet, almost inaudible sigh. "Reapers."

"_Reapers_?" Ellen asked, a faint hint on incredulity to her voice as she gazed at the angel. "As in more than one?"

The angel nodded once in response as he continued to slowly scan the area warily, a slightly tense expression on his face as he did so.

"They only gather like this at times of great catastrophe. Chicago Fire, San Francisco Quake, Pompeii," he said as he glanced around them before something like determination settled in his eyes. "Excuse me, I need to find out why they're here."

And with that, Castiel strode determinedly across the street, occasionally altering his path so he apparently wouldn't bump into one of the invisible Reapers before he disappeared. Behind her, Jesse heard Ellen drop several rather interesting curses in response to the angel's disappearance. The art student briefly felt like joining her for a moment, or at least indulging in a nice, wonderfully exasperated face-palm. Even _she_ knew that it was always a bad idea to go off on your own, angel or not. Something would always happen… you could get captured by the opposing forces, killed, viciously mauled by some kind of evil, creepy-ass thing, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Actually, given what kind of show she was currently stuck in, there was a slightly higher chance than usual of that kind of thing taking place.

"Okay girls, back in the car," Ellen finally grumped as she looked around them once more before she got into the vehicle and started up the engine. "Let's go find the boys before one of them do something else foolish, or lands us all ankle-deep in trouble."

Jo shot Jesse a mildly exasperated look, and the younger woman responded with a shrug and a mildly sheepish smile in an attempt to convey the sentiment of: _Moms. What can you do?_ The hunter seemed to understand what Jesse was trying to say, because she rolled her eyes meaningfully in response as she gave a soft huff of exasperation.

"Joanna Beth, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to get in the car?"

While Jo protested at least the partial use of her full name, Jesse used the opportunity to duck inside the car before Ellen could yell at her too. Ellen was scary-good at sounding like _her_ mom when she was cranky and was calling her eldest out on the carpet. For not the first time in the past week or so, Jesse was insanely thankful that Andy had not ended up with her, no matter how much she missed his smartass method of dealing with things. While having him around when she'd been dealing with Gabriel would have been helpful, she knew that her brother – who had a long and sordid history of refusing to listen to authority figures, their parents included – would have balked at being treated like a child who didn't have the first clue to what the hell was going on.

Not to mention, the second that he found out they were stuck in her 'weird-ass TV show', he probably would have ripped Jesse a new one.

Once the two hunters had got back into the vehicle, and Ellen had resumed slowly driving through the deserted town, Jesse watched the abandoned buildings go by as her mind whirled. The plan that the Winchesters had come up with was to corner Lucifer in Carthage, stop him from keeping the Apocalypse rolling by shooting him with the Colt, and hopefully stop the End of Days in its tracks without Dean agreeing to be Michael's meatsuit. The young woman grimaced briefly at the thought before she sighed. As much as she was not fond of Dean, especially after how he had treated her, she still wouldn't wish being forced to end up as a drooling vegetable once the archangel had vacated the premises on anyone.

While part of her wondered if it was actually feasible to just shoot the Devil and have everything be over and done with, the rest of her hoped that it would actually work. The whole plan sounded outright suicidal, but as Jo had pointed out to her previously when she had raised that exact objection, it was all they really had to work with.

All they could do was take the shot, and hope for the best.

It took a few minutes for Ellen to locate Sam and Dean, and once she did, the Winchesters were far less than pleased to hear that Castiel had gone off on his own, as well as the fact that the town was now densely repopulated with Reapers. In fact, while Dean went off on a mini-rant at Sam about Cas being an idiot and wondering where the hell he had gone, and what had possessed him to do something so stupid, Jo took the opportunity to hold a quiet conversation with Jesse about what was going to happen.

"We can't really leave you in the car, 'cause that's just asking for trouble," the blonde hunter mused quietly as she proceeded to arm herself with a variety of weapons out of the car's trunk. "And Mom won't just let you go off on your own, because again, that's just asking for trouble. We don't know exactly what's going on here, other than Satan's coming to town, so there's no telling what he brought along with him."

The two women fell silent for a little bit as they listened to the sounds of Sam and Dean arguing in quiet undertones even as Ellen eyed them with obvious disapproval. In spite of what was going down, it was hardly the most appropriate time or place to get into an argument.

"Demons," Jesse finally supplied with a frown as she crossed her arms over her chest and glanced around her briefly at the still-deserted town before she gave a long, exhausted sigh. "Definitely demons. Right now Lucifer's hot shit on campus, so that means there's probably going to be lots of groupies hanging around trying to impress the Devil." When Jo shot her an odd look in response to her remark, the younger woman merely shrugged as she briefly offered the hunter a small, strained grin. "Hey, that's how it always worked in high school. The popular kids always had someone following them around, trying to get into the 'in' crowd. So I'm gonna guess that since Lucifer is probably the best thing since sliced bread for them, demons are going to be lurking around, trying to curry favor." She paused for a moment before she shrugged. "Then again, I could be completely and totally wrong. This is just my opinion, okay? I'm just basing my assumptions on what I've heard about him so far, recently and whatever I remember from what I've read in the Bible, so don't quote me on it. I could be _waaaay_ off-track for all we know."

For some unknown reason, Jo smiled faintly at her even as she nudged the younger woman lightly with her shoulder.

"Hey, everything we're going on right now is pretty much guesswork, so don't feel too bad," she said before she indicated to the exposed Celtic cross that hung from Jesse's neck. "Out of curiosity, what version of the Bible did you read?" At the younger woman's mildly bewildered expression, Jo shrugged. "I've noticed that you don't take your necklace off, even when you're asleep, and I've never seen a cross like that before, so I had to ask."

Jesse let out a soft huff of laughter as she held the pewter cross between her thumb and pointer finger, slowly running the pad of her thumb over the knotwork in a meditative motion. Trust Jo to pick a very roundabout way of asking what religion she was, even if it was powered more by a hunter's curiosity than it was anything else.

"I'm Catholic," she finally said, fingering her pendant as she spoke. "Irish Catholic, if you really want to get specific, so whatever version of the Bible I've read is the one that the church uses. I haven't read it outside of church in years though." Jesse briefly paused for a moment before she smiled faintly and shrugged. "I'm not really devout or anything though, much to my grandmother's eternal disappointment. She still gets upset whenever she finds out that I haven't been to church every Sunday, starts worrying about my immortal soul and whatnot."

The older woman began to chuckle at the appropriately wry remark as she pocketed some extra ammunition for her shotgun.

"So, you're Irish?" she asked, and Jesse grinned teasingly in response.

"Only half," she responded brightly. "Well, a little bit more than half, actually. The rest is the traditional American mutt mix of German, Lithuanian, Blackfoot Indian, and maybe a smattering of Greek. My dad says that there's some British and French mixed in there too, but both my brother and grandmother insist on denying that one until they're blue in the face."

That seemed to amuse Jo, because she had to briefly cover her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. The art student adopted a mock offended frown as she shook her head and let out an amused sigh.

"It wasn't that funny," she finally commented wryly, and Jo finally managed to calm down a little as she shot the younger woman a mildly pleased glance.

"No, it's just that… we're standing here, about to go up against the Devil, and we're chatting about family heritage and your brother's quirks," she chuckled quietly. "_That's_ what's so funny. Talk about a good way to get rid of pre-hunt jitters."

Jesse quirked an eyebrow curiously. "You can _get_ those?"

"We're about to go up against _Lucifer_ so we can stop the Apocalypse," Jo pointed out flatly as her expression sobered quickly. "I think you'd have to be insane to not be nervous right now."

Not surprisingly, the younger woman paled slightly at the thought, a slightly greenish tinge accenting her complexion as she grimaced slightly.

"Right," she muttered weakly as she crossed her arms over her chest, her hands gripping the opposite elbow in a kind of desperate, white-knuckled grasp that belied just how scared she actually was. The hunter watched Jesse's actions for a moment before she smiled wearily with an air of reluctant acceptance. After all, it didn't take a genius to recognize how frightened the civilian was over the entire situation, especially considering the fact that they were kind of strapped for ideas on what to do with her.

Suddenly, an idea struck Jo, and she cocked her head slightly to the side as she observed the art student with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

"This is probably going to sound kind of crazy, but have you ever handled a gun before?" she asked slowly. A pair of light brown eyebrows slowly rose upwards as Jesse stared at her for a moment before she sighed.

"Actually, yeah, I have," she said quietly as she stuffed her left hand into her jacket pocket, using her right to rub nervously at the back of her neck. "My dad taught me how to shoot when I was thirteen, although I'm better with a rifle than with a handgun. I haven't gone to the shooting range in a few years though, so I don't know how good of a shot I am now."

It was true, too. The last time that Jesse remembered going to the shooting range had been at least two years ago, on Andy's nineteenth birthday. She grimaced slightly at the memory of the two morons in the slot next to them who been screwing around, acting like they were all badass because they knew how to shoot, when in reality they didn't know squat about gun safety. At one point, they had even briefly aimed the muzzle of the loaded handgun in her dad's direction when they'd been waving it around like a couple of idiots. In retaliation, Andy had made sure to position the .303 so that whenever he fired, the shell casing was ejected over into their space and hit one of the two dumbasses on the head. That was also the selfsame trip when Jesse had fired the .303 for the first time, and the recoil had knocked her flat on her ass as it threw her out of the kneeling position that she had been in.

She had sworn at the time that Andy had come close to wetting himself, he had been laughing so hard at the sight. Not surprisingly, Jesse winced slightly at the recollection. That had not been one of her finer moments.

Jo gave her a knowing grin in response to the brunette's rather uncertain comment as she began to dig around in the trunk of the car.

"Not a problem; it's kind of like riding a bike," she said, although there was a serious undertone to her voice as she turned around and regarded the younger woman carefully. "With you, we're probably going to want to go with a handgun. A shotgun would probably be too much for you, and we don't have any rifles."

For a second, the art student looked completely stunned by the older woman's words.

"You're giving me a gun?"

And those, of course, were the five words necessary to catch Dean's attention as his rather heated discussion with Sam abruptly came to a halt, and he turned around to stare at Jesse and Jo like they had both taken leave of their senses. When he opened his mouth to spout off a vehement denial of her Second Amendment rights, the hypocrite, Ellen stepped in with a stern look and a pointed, incredibly appropriate remark.

"Dean, if she knows how to handle a gun, let her use it," the older hunter said almost reprovingly before she arched a dark blonde eyebrow meaningfully. "Unless, of course, you want to bring her along and have her unarmed? I don't know what you may think boy, but that sounds like a damn good way to get someone killed."

Dean scowled briefly as he looked like he was about to protest before he seemed to realize that he wasn't exactly in the best position to argue, and he pulled a face before he let out a quiet 'sonofabitch' and looked over at the three women.

"Fine," the elder Winchester grumbled reluctantly as he turned back around to discuss tactics with Sam.

Ellen apparently took that as a sign to go on with what Jo had planned, because she joined her daughter in selecting an appropriate handgun that Jesse could handle without breaking her wrists from the recoil. It took a few minutes, but they finally settled on a small handgun – Jesse couldn't remember what type it was for the life of her, or the caliber. All she knew that it was smaller than her dad's Glock .45, and according to Jo, didn't have as much of a kick, but it still packed a punch. Then again, she had never really cared all that much about guns. That had always been Andy's area of expertise. Sure, she could tell the difference between some of the calibers, and knew the difference between some of the gun types, but to be honest, her experience with firearms had been limited to learning how to shoot. Andy was the one who was always going on and on about the different specs of weapons used in the military, how snipers worked, and all of that jazz.

Jesse… well, she had always been the history and fantasy geek. She was the one who had immersed herself in fairy tales, fictional worlds, and mythology as soon as she had been able to understand the books outside of the children's section at the public library. Her detailed knowledge of weaponry maybe extended up to the mid-1800's, and she could identify some of the different types of swords out there, but that was about it.

Once Ellen had finished going over gun safety with her – using a no-nonsense tone as she explained everything in precise detail that had abruptly reminded Jesse of Marie, her own mother – the older woman had shown her how to load the consecrated iron bullets into the clip, and handed her extra ammunition that she was instructed to put in her jacket pocket for safekeeping. The handgun had come with a belt holster that Jesse recognized from one of Andy's spiels, one that locked the gun in unless you removed it in a specific manner, and kept someone from easily disarming you. Ellen had taken one look at Jesse, raised an eyebrow, and then insisted that the younger woman wear it so that she could have her hands free in case something happened.

"Uh, yeah, somehow I don't think that mythology geek exactly translates all that well into hunter," the art student finally cracked weakly once Ellen left her to finish gearing up and Jo's lips briefly quirked up into a small, tense smile.

"But it's still better that you have something to defend yourself with if things get nasty than to have nothing," the blonde woman reasoned. Jesse nodded briefly in response before she gave a soft, humorless laugh.

"And to think a month ago that my ideal form of self-defense was to knee someone in the crotch, hit them in the throat and then run like hell," she muttered almost wryly, eliciting a quiet laugh from Jo.

"My, how times change," the other woman quipped almost teasingly, and while Jesse did agree with her sentiment, she forced herself to bite her tongue before she could say something damning about how much they could change without warning.

Right now, the best thing that she could do for the time being would be to focus on surviving this little day trip to deal with Lucifer before she worried about anything else.

Once everyone got all kitted out and ready to go, they left the vehicles behind and proceeded into the town of Carthage on foot. Due to Ellen's insistence, Jesse was in the middle of the group, kind of sandwiched in between the Winchesters and the Harvelles, apparently for her own protection. While that small safety measure did make her feel a little bit better, especially since she knew that she wasn't a fighter, it still didn't do anything to prevent the hair on the back of her neck prickling uncomfortably. Whether it was from nerves or a legitimate fear of whatever was hiding within the town, Jesse didn't know. Either way, it still set her teeth on edge even as Sam and Dean continued to quietly discuss what could have possibly happened to Castiel.

Without any warning whatsoever, a strange voice that came from behind them abruptly broke the heavy, grim silence that hung over the small town.

"_There_ you are."

All five of them immediately spun around to face the speaker, and the sight of the slight-framed, dark-haired woman standing there with a small smirk on her face temporarily threw Jesse for a loop. She looked like someone who was just out of college or something, a civilian, someone with a home, a family, a normal _life_.

But that smirk… it set off every single mental alarm that Jesse had.

Dark brown eyes briefly flicked over in her direction before the smirk widened, and she turned her attention over to Dean before the strange woman spoke again.

"Wow Dean, I never would have thought you had it in you," she said in a syrupy, mocking tone of voice that absolutely set Jesse's teeth on edge. "So, is this supposed to be take your daughter to work day?"

It took Jesse roughly three seconds to figure out what the strange woman had just insinuated, and she forced herself to grit her teeth together instead of letting fly the snappish retort that had come to mind, and gave a low, wordless growl of pure outrage instead. Why did people keep thinking that she was a kid? She was twenty-two, for the love that all that was sane, sacred, and holy! And to be _Dean's_ kid on top of that? Um, no, no way in _hell_.

"Meg," Sam said darkly as he glared at the woman, and Jesse couldn't repress the small flinch that she made when she heard the name that the hunter spat out.

Oh, great, they were dealing with _Meg_, the original insane demon psych bitch of the _Supernatural_ series herself. The same one who was responsible for capturing John Winchester long enough for Azazel to possess him, the one who possessed Sam and tried to get Dean to kill him all while using Sam's body to commit horrible deeds. And she was standing in the street not even fifty feet away from them, smirking horribly like she knew the punch line to some secret cosmic joke.

The mere sight of it made Jesse's non-existent hackles bristle even as a very real shiver of cold fear slid down into the pit of her stomach.

"You shouldn't have come here boys," the demon finally declared smugly, and Sam and Dean both managed to give her one hell of a death glare in response. However, after a second, Dean's expression became one of dark amusement as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a grim smile.

"Hell, I could say the same thing for you," the eldest Winchester shot back as he swiftly and easily aimed the Colt at Meg.

Where he had been hiding it earlier, Jesse had no clue, especially since he had been holding a shotgun, which was now gripped tightly in one hand. When Jo and Ellen stiffened up and prepped themselves to ready their weapons, Jesse took that as her cue to release the catch on her borrowed handgun so she could remove it from the holster. She slowly and quietly removed the gun and gripped it tightly in both hands, a single, shaking finger hovering over the safety.

The nauseating smirk that Meg gave him in response made all of the fine hair along Jesse's neck prickle in alarm. Something was wrong, she could tell that much right now. Meg had something up her sleeve, and she knew it.

Dark eyebrows briefly rose before the demon gave them all a knowing, venomous smile. "Didn't come here alone, Deano."

Just when Jesse had to wonder what the hell Meg meant by that, something splashed in a puddle near the possessed woman's feet. The young woman felt a chill run through her completely unbidden as her eyes focused on the puddle, and she was forced to clench her teeth to prevent a startled curse from escaping when she saw the distinct imprint of a paw in the water, as though some huge, invisible canine was standing there. When the sound of dogs barking and snarling began, the noise sounding wrong even to someone who'd had dogs for her entire life, Jesse couldn't help the small, strangled whimper that escaped from her throat as she realized that they were all in deep, _deep_ shit.

Meg had brought Hellhounds with her.

Completely unbidden, a memory came to mind, and even though Jesse had only witnessed the event through a television screen, it still didn't make it any less chilling.

_The low snarls of invisible dogs that only Dean could see, Lilith's sickeningly cheerful smile on Ruby's borrowed face, the way she cocked her head from side to side even as she spoke in a nauseatingly child-like voice._

"_Sick 'em, boy."_

Her breath coming in short, panicked gasps even as she tried to reign in the bone-deep feeling of instinctual terror, the young woman swallowed nervously before she glanced over at the hunters. Sam, Jo, and Ellen were all looking around, trying to see where the growling was coming from. Dean, however, actually looked afraid even as he tried to see if he could spot the supernatural canines as well.

And was any of that even _remotely_ reassuring to see? _No_.

"Hellhounds," the eldest Winchester finally said tightly as he gripped his gun until his knuckles turned white, his expression only slightly. Meg grinned in a truly unholy manner at him in response, her manner one of utter glee as she smirked at the hunters.

"Yeah, Dean. Your favorite," she taunted knowingly before she looked at the Winchesters slyly. "Come on, boys. My father wants to see you."

For a moment, Jesse had absolutely no clue what the hell Meg was going on about even as she wordlessly mouthed 'father' in a slightly bewildered manner. Azazel was long since dead and gone, and had been for several years if she remembered correctly. Well, not several, but at least three. However, as she took in the momentary flash of horror that crossed Sam and Dean's faces, right before it was replaced by stubborn refusal, she realized that Azazel wasn't the 'Father' that Meg was referring to.

She was talking about Lucifer.

"I think we'll pass, thanks," Sam said tersely as he gave Meg a look that said there was no way in Hell that he was even going to consider doing what she had suggested. The demon looked more than a bit put out as she glared at them for a moment before she let out a heavy, mocking sigh.

"Your call," she said almost carelessly. "You can make this easy, or you can make it really, really hard."

Dean stared at her silently for a moment, green eyes narrowed slightly before he briefly glanced over in Ellen's direction. The older hunter seemed to understand his silent question, because she slowly inclined her head in a clear nod of ascent.

"And when have you known us to _ever_ make anything easy?" Dean asked in a would-be flippant tone, although there was a note of grim amusement in his voice as well.

Meg's expression darkened slightly at the flat-out refusal. Then, without warning, Dean jerked the Colt's muzzle off to the side and fired at the invisible Hellhound that was just off to Meg's right. The only sign that he had hit the damn things was the pained yelp and the spray of dark blood that suddenly blossomed out of thin air. A large hand seized Jesse by the elbow and roughly jerked her back even as she heard a pack of unseen hounds begin to bay in pure and utter rage.

They were all _screwed_.

"Run!" Sam ordered sharply, and that was all Jesse needed to kick-start her out of her petrified state as adrenalin spiked through her system in response to the bone-deep fear paralyzing her.

Like any reasonably sane individual who had just discovered that they had a spectral hound from Hell on their ass, Jesse took off running like a scared rabbit. There was no way that she was going to stop either, not even is she had an asthma attack. However, before she could run too far, something very large, heavy, and foul-tempered knocked her down and pinned her on her back to the ground with a throaty snarl.

As Jesse stared in wide-eyed terror at the unseen hound pinning her to the ground, she couldn't prevent the strangled, high-pitched keening noise that escaped from her throat even as a single, painfully ironic realization dawned upon her.

_Now_ she was going to die.

* * *

Yeah, I know that this took a bit longer than I thought it was going to, but life decided to be a pain. Art student, remember? Anyone who tells you that art is an easy, slacker major is a moron who has never taken a single art class in their life. I have more homework from my art classes in a single day than any of my non-art classes in a week, especially my studio classes.

Okay, so all griping aside, I apologize for the almost two-month wait. I am going to do my best to get the next chapter up faster than this one, but I will make no promises on that one. In fact, this chapter almost got delayed by the fact that Supernatural Wiki went down today, but I managed to get it finished.

Thank you to _Oh Just Me_, _Linnea_, Smiling Loki, WingsOfFate, Maddy Love Castiel, dark-half-angel14, PhoenixRage92, Calyn, AuntMo, Time and Fate, Maat, and _Ash_ for all keeping up with the story, and offering endless encouragement.

And without the assistance of the fantastic **AuntMo**, and all of her insight and common sense, as well as her good-natured prodding, this chapter wouldn't have been finished.


	12. Chapter 12: Reality's Pain

_Here I stand, helpless and left for dead._

_Close your eyes, so many days go by._  
_Easy to find what's wrong, harder to find what's right._

_I believe in you, I can show you that I can see right through all your empty lies._

_I won't stay long, in this world so wrong._

_Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight._  
_Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight._

-"Dance with the Devil" by **Breaking Benjamin**

"The point is… you are alive when they start to eat you. So you know… try to show a little respect." – Dr. Alan Grant, _Jurassic Park_

**Chapter Twelve:**

**Reality's Pain**

_**Then:**_

_Dark eyebrows briefly rose before the demon gave them all a knowing, venomous smile. "Didn't come here alone, Deano."_

_Just when Jesse had to wonder what the hell Meg meant by that, something splashed in a puddle near the possessed woman's feet. The young woman felt a chill run through her completely unbidden as her eyes focused on the puddle, and she was forced to clench her teeth to prevent a startled curse from escaping when she saw the distinct imprint of a paw in the water, as though some huge, invisible canine was standing there. When the sound of dogs barking and snarling began, the noise sounding wrong even to someone who'd had dogs for her entire life, Jesse couldn't help the small, strangled whimper that escaped from her throat as she realized that they were all in deep, **deep** shit._

_Meg had brought Hellhounds with her._

_Completely unbidden, a memory came to mind, and even though Jesse had only witnessed the event through a television screen, it still didn't make it any less chilling._

_**The low snarls of invisible dogs that only Dean could see, Lilith's sickeningly cheerful smile on Ruby's borrowed face, the way she cocked her head from side to side even as she spoke in a nauseatingly child-like voice.**_

"_**Sick 'em, boy."**_

_Her breath coming in short, panicked gasps even as she tried to reign in the bone-deep feeling of instinctual terror, the young woman swallowed nervously before she glanced over at the hunters. Sam, Jo, and Ellen were all looking around, trying to see where the growling was coming from. Dean, however, actually looked afraid even as he tried to see if he could spot the supernatural canines as well._

_And was any of that even **remotely** reassuring to see? **No**._

"_Hellhounds," the eldest Winchester finally said tightly as he gripped his gun until his knuckles turned white, his expression only slightly. Meg grinned in a truly unholy manner at him in response, her manner one of utter glee as she smirked at the hunters._

"_Yeah, Dean. Your favorite," she taunted knowingly before she looked at the Winchesters slyly. "Come on, boys. My father wants to see you."_

_For a moment, Jesse had absolutely no clue what the hell Meg was going on about even as she wordlessly mouthed 'father' in a slightly bewildered manner. Azazel was long since dead and gone, and had been for several years if she remembered correctly. Well, not several, but at least three. However, as she took in the momentary flash of horror that crossed Sam and Dean's faces, right before it was replaced by stubborn refusal, she realized that Azazel wasn't the 'Father' that Meg was referring to. _

_She was talking about Lucifer._

"_I think we'll pass, thanks," Sam said tersely as he gave Meg a look that said there was no way in Hell that he was even going to consider doing what she had suggested. The demon looked more than a bit put out as she glared at them for a moment before she let out a heavy, mocking sigh._

"_Your call," she said almost carelessly. "You can make this easy, or you can make it really, really hard."_

_Dean stared at her silently for a moment, green eyes narrowed slightly before he briefly glanced over in Ellen's direction. The older hunter seemed to understand his silent question, because she slowly inclined her head in a clear nod of ascent._

"_And when have you known us to **ever** make anything easy?" Dean asked in a would-be flippant tone, although there was a note of grim amusement in his voice as well._

_Meg's expression darkened slightly at the flat-out refusal. Then, without warning, Dean jerked the Colt's muzzle off to the side and fired at the invisible Hellhound that was just off to Meg's right. The only sign that he had hit the damn things was the pained yelp and the spray of dark blood that suddenly blossomed out of thin air. A large hand seized Jesse by the elbow and roughly jerked her back even as she heard a pack of unseen hounds begin to bay in pure and utter rage._

_They were all **screwed**._

"_Run!" Sam ordered sharply, and that was all Jesse needed to kick-start her out of her petrified state as adrenalin spiked through her system in response to the bone-deep fear paralyzing her._

_Like any reasonably sane individual who had just discovered that they had a spectral hound from Hell on their ass, Jesse took off running like a scared rabbit. There was no way that she was going to stop either, not even is she had an asthma attack. However, before she could run too far, something very large, heavy, and foul-tempered knocked her down and pinned her on her back to the ground with a throaty snarl._

_As Jesse stared in wide-eyed terror at the unseen hound pinning her to the ground, she couldn't prevent the strangled, high-pitched keening noise that escaped from her throat even as a single, painfully ironic realization dawned upon her._

_**Now** she was going to die._

**Now:**

Too scared to even curse, it took everything that Jesse had to keep from hyperventilating as she groped frantically for the handgun that had been knocked out of her hands when she had been tackled by the Hellhound. Sharp claws dug into her upper right arm mercilessly, and the woman went white from pain as the dog-like creature's claws gouged deep into her skin before she felt something warm and wet begin to trickle down her arm.

A low, whuffing snarl came from the thing pinning her down, an almost mocking parody of the same noise that Sandy, one of her own dogs would make whenever she was about to feed her. This time, Jesse didn't even bother to try and repress the strangled, shaky, almost hysterical way she was breathing as she stared in wide-eyed horror at the invisible presence that was pinning her to the ground.

She was bleeding, and the canine pinning her sounded like it was looking forward to chow time. The damn thing was going to rip her to shreds! Frantic, panicked thoughts about animals going after the slowest and weakest went through her mind even as the young woman silently prayed to God that everything she had experienced up until this point was nothing more than some horrible nightmare and she wanted to wake. Up. _Right_. _NOW_.

Brown eyes dilated in pure horror just as her hand finally landed on the handgun's grip, and without even hearing the panicked shouts from the people that she had been with, Jesse managed to angle the gun towards the invisible presence pinning her to the cold ground. Not here, dammit! She wasn't going to die here!

A shot suddenly rang out, and the Hellhound pinning Jesse to the ground stumbled off of her with a pained yelp and a hot spray of dark blood. For a second, she thought that she had squeezed the trigger without realizing it, but that notion was dissuaded when Sam suddenly ran up and hauled her forcefully to her feet, all but dragging the younger woman away from the scene even the Hellhounds began to bay with unbridled fury. It didn't take too much imagination for Jesse to picture them howling for her and Sam's blood, and that was all the encouragement that she needed to get her legs working again.

In the panic and intensity of the situation, Jesse hadn't realized that Dean had almost re-lived his entry to Hell while Sam had been focused on helping to save her sorry ass. She hadn't seen Dean get knocked to the ground by a Hellhound, and how Jo had tried to kill the hell-beast by firing repeatedly at it with her shotgun. And she hadn't seen a second Hellhound attack the woman that had started to become her friend. That didn't prevent her from hearing the anguished, horrified scream that ripped its way from Ellen's lips through the terrified haze that clouded her senses as a Hellhound ripped into Jo's side.

"No!"

After that, everything seemed to dissolve into a chaotic mess as Hellhounds sent up an eerie cry that chilled Jesse to the very bone, Dean snatched Jo up from the ground, and Sam proceeded to shove the artist in front of him as he and Ellen ran interference for the three running like hell. Shots rang out behind Jesse as they all ran from the Hellhounds, and the woman ignored the strangled wheeze that was already beginning to emerge from her throat as she realized that for the first time in her life, she was running for her life. Asthma attack be damned. She'd rather be safe and keel over from pushing herself further than her body could handle than die as a Hellhound's chew toy. Granted, suffocation wasn't exactly a pleasant way to go, but it sure as hell beat getting mauled to death.

It wasn't until they managed to run into an abandoned hardware store, with Ellen holding the door open so that Dean could get Jo inside, that things calmed down enough for Jesse to realize that not only had she lost the gun that she'd been given, but also that Jo was injured much more badly than she had originally thought. Even Jesse, who was no doctor, knew that someone bleeding that much was never a good sign. Hurriedly, Dean propped Jo up against the counter even as Sam chained the front door shut before he and his brother seized two huge sacks of road salt and slit them open before they began to salt the doorway and windows to keep the Hellhounds from coming in after them.

"Boys, need some help here!" Ellen called out as she set about tending to Jo. Cautiously, she peeled her daughter's hand away from the wound to inspect the damage, and an unnerving amount of blood suddenly spurted out. Jesse felt herself pale at the sight, while Sam and Dean just stopped and stared at Jo in horror. The artist didn't even dare glance at Ellen, knowing that the older woman was probably already on the verge of having a heart attack.

Honestly, Jesse felt flat-out nauseous. While she usually had no problem with handling guts and gore, now was different. This wasn't some mock operation with an already dead body of an animal, or a rubber model, or even a dissection for a lab. Right now, someone who she considered to be a friend, someone that she _knew_, was bleeding out in front of her. And of course, to make things even worse, the artist didn't even know what she could do to help.

Suddenly, Sam came up behind the younger woman and slowly began to steer her over towards where Ellen and Jo were, startling her.

"Jesse, you said that you went to vet school, right?" he asked softly, and Jesse sharply glanced back at him, her expression one of almost indignant terror.

"Yeah, the first _year_!"

The hunter gave her a pointed look as he shrugged almost helplessly. "That's more than what most of us have. Look, just… go over there and help, please? I know that you're probably scared shitless-" At that point, Jesse crossed her arms over her chest and gave the older man a look that screamed 'You _think_?' "-but we need all the help we can get right now. Besides, even if you just help Ellen keep Jo talking… well…"

Jesse took in the youngest Winchester's hesitant manner before she sighed and shook her head, and then turned around, heading over towards the two Harvelle women. She didn't know exactly what Sam wanted her to do, but at this point all she could do was go over to Ellen and find out what she needed help with. Part of her silently wondered if the fact that she wished that she could wake up and find out that this whole Carthage mess had been a bad dream, even if that just meant that they were all back at Bobby's, made her a horrible person. It was kind of ironic, in a truly nauseating, gut-churning sense, that she was in a position her medical knowledge, or lack of it, could affect the outcome of the life of someone she knew.

In all honesty, it made Jesse feel like she was about to be sick.

Reluctantly, the young woman approached Ellen and Jo, where the elder of the two smiled weakly at her as Jesse assisted her in lowering Jo to the floor so she wouldn't put as much strain on the wound. As Sam went to go fetch the first aid kit, and anything else that could be used as medical supplies, Jo flashed the artist a weak smirk, and Jesse felt a tight, painful knot form in the pit of her stomach.

"So, why didn't you ever tell me that you went to vet school? I'm hurt, really, I am." she said almost teasingly, although her expression was pained.

"Because I dropped out after my first year," Jesse said as she dug a hand into one of her pockets in search of something that she could use to tie back her long hair. "I freaked out during my internship over the summer when I was supposed to put a dog to sleep, and after that, I… I just couldn't do it anymore." The younger woman shrugged halfheartedly as she slowly shrugged off her jacket and the flannel button-down on underneath, revealing the plain gray t-shirt she wore, as well as the sluggishly-bleeding spot where the Hellhound had tried to dig into her upper arm. She ignored the reproving glare that Jo sent her even as the injury stung. Jo's injuries were far more serious than hers were – she could tough it out for a bit. "Well, that, and the fact that I don't really like talking about it."

"Are you embarrassed about it or something?"

Jesse smiled sadly as she gave a faint snort of disgust. "You could say that."

Roughly around that point, Sam returned with the first aid kit, as well as several packages of clean shop rags. Quietly muttering her thanks, the younger woman began to help Ellen try and stop the blood flow by silently folding up the white rags into thick pads and then handing them over to the hunter. Finally, when things seemed to slow down a bit, Jesse decided that now was probably the best time to see if she could safely stitch up whatever wound the Hellhound had inflicted on Jo.

"I'm going to take a look at your wound, okay?" she asked tentatively, and Jo offered her a wan smile even as Ellen gave her a look that urged her on. Sucking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, Jesse slowly pulled aside the shop rags that they had used and Jo's shirt… and immediately went dead white as her right hand slowly began to tremble before she tightly fisted it into one of the blood-soaked rags.

Unfortunately, Jesse had never been able to really mask what she was feeling. Andy had always given her crap by saying that she should never play poker, because she would lose every single time. Then again, perhaps she could be forgiven for looking and feeling like she was about to be violently ill because she was currently staring at her friend's _intestines_.

"Jesus _Christ_."

Normally, she wasn't one who said something like that, especially since even though her mom and dad were a little loose on the rules when it came to swearing now that she and Andy were adults, they still drew the line at blasphemy. And even though she was still in the process of getting over her issues with God, the last thing Jesse really wanted to do was piss off the man upstairs. But, as she stared in white-faced shock at brutally shredded flesh and the slimy gleam of what she was ninety-nine point nine percent certain were internal organs, Jesse was silently torn between cursing any surrounding deities with everything that she had, or praying to God for a miracle.

Even as her mind began to scream about the numerous physical differences between humans and the different animals that people kept as pets and she began to shudder with barely-controlled terror, the artist clenched her eyes shut and followed the advice from one of her instructors at the end of her second semester. Quietly, under her breath, she began to count to ten. Forcing herself to focus, Jesse dredged up her rather scratchy memory of Japanese, if only to further distract herself from what she'd seen.

"Ichi, ni, san, shi, go, roku, shi-shichi-" the woman winced as she stumbled on 'seven' even as she felt some of the blinding fear begin to fade to somewhat tolerable levels "- hachi, kyuu, juu."

Inhaling deeply, Jesse opened her eyes and tried her best this time to keep a clear head as she began to inspect Jo's injury once again. Fortunately, no one said anything about her little wig-fest as the art student began to carefully inspect the ragged edges of the wound, although that didn't stop her from turning slightly green in the gills during the process. To put not too fine a point on things, the Hellhound had almost literally turned Jo's side into hamburger. Everything was ragged and torn, and there were so many holes and gashes in the skin and muscle that even if Jesse could have patched the older woman up, she honestly wouldn't have known where to start. The last time she'd seen something like this, she'd been twenty-one, and in the waiting room of the local emergency vet when a tearful little girl came rushing in with a hamster that had been eviscerated by the family cat.

For probably the first time in almost four years, Jesse wished that she hadn't quit the vet program.

"I don't think that I can really do anything," she finally admitted slowly, not even daring to look up at Ellen or Sam, or worst of all Jo, because she didn't want to see the look of disappointment on their faces. "I can't tell what kind of damage the Hellhound did to your internal organs, and I don't have enough experience to do anything about it even if I could. And to be honest, I wouldn't even know what to do even if the damage was only to skin and muscles, everything's so…"

Jesse trailed off helplessly as she shrugged, and Jo gave a mildly sarcastic snort in response, weak though it was.

"You can say that my side looks like ground hamburger. I promise that I won't get offended," she pointed out sardonically. Ellen looked like she was torn between protesting and agreeing with her daughter, and Sam, well, Sam just stood there anxiously. After several moments of tense silence, Jesse found a clean shop rag and began to wipe off her hands in a clearly distracted manner.

"Best thing we can do right now is bandage everything up, and pray that we get out of here soon," the artist finally said, an underlying note of weariness in her voice. Thankfully, no one mentioned anything on how her hands trembled visibly as she spoke.

With that prognosis, she was instructed to form another thick pad out of the shop rags to cover the gaping wound in Jo's side and hold it in place while Sam and Ellen bandaged up the younger hunter's torso. At several points during the process, Jo, who had been levered back up into a sitting position and was leaning heavily against Jesse for support, the older woman wrapped a hand around Jesse's arm and gripped it tightly, her knuckles going white whenever someone hit a spot that caused her pain.

Once Jo was all patched up – well, as patched up as she could get with part of her left side being mangled into raw meat – Sam got up and went over to speak with Dean after he had handed the older woman a bowl of water, leaving Jesse and Ellen sitting on either side of the wounded hunter. With a faint sigh, Jesse settled back against the front of the counter, preparing herself for a long wait and a great deal of uncomfortable silence. The spot where the Hellhound had dug into her arm with its claws stung like hell, but for the most part, Jesse could ignore it. She'd disinfected it with an alcohol wipe when she'd had a moment, and used a clean white rag in lieu of a bandage to help free up supplies for Jo, who definitely needed them more than she did. Ellen had helped her tie it off, especially since the injury was on her dominant arm and was kind of a pain in the ass to deal with when she could only really use her left hand. When Jesse had shrugged her button-down and jacket back on, she'd been forced to ignore the holes in the sleeve, as well as the highly disconcerting bloodstains on the fabric.

"Why don't you like talking about not being able to hack it in vet school?"

The question startled Jesse, and she jerked slightly in surprise as she glanced over at Jo. When the older woman gave her a somewhat pleading look in response, clearly indicating that she wanted to talk about something, anything to fill the tense silence that encompassed the hardware store. Finally, after a few moments, Jesse shrugged marginally as she settled down next to her friend, ignoring how Ellen was watching her as well.

"My mom… she's a science teacher at one of the local junior highs near my house," the artist began slowly, her gaze focused on nothing in particular as she stared straight ahead. Without really noticing it, she began to absentmindedly drum her fingers along her thigh. "She's absolutely brilliant, and when I dropped out of the veterinary program and went into art instead, well… she was more than a little bit disappointed. There have been _numerous_ conversations on how I'm getting a degree that has very little application in the real world." Jesse paused for a moment as she smiled almost bitterly. "And it gets really annoying when she keeps going on about how I need to go into science, because everything's about science with her."

Jo arched an eyebrow, but for the most part she looked understanding even as Jesse voiced something that had bugged her for a while, but had never dared to mention to anyone. No matter how much she loved Andy, if she told him, all he would do would be to tell her that she needed to get confrontational with Marie, which would never end well. Then again, Andy always went with the strategy that had the biggest possibility of blowing up in someone's face, usually his. And, of course, if she followed his advice, all she would achieve from that would be to end up getting into a fight with her mother, which unlike her muttonhead of a brother, she did _not_ enjoy.

"Let me guess, you love your mom dearly and respect what she's saying, but it's frustrating that she's trying to plot out your life for you?" the older woman asked weakly in a somewhat teasing tone even as she glanced over at Ellen, who now seemed to be ignoring the conversation. Not that Jesse could exactly blame her – if they couldn't do something soon, her daughter could very well die here in this God-forsaken town.

The art student shrugged uselessly as she offered Jo a wan smile, somewhat strapped for answers herself. After that, everything became quiet as Jesse got up to find something relatively soft to prop Jo up against, even if it was nothing more than a canvas drop cloth. It took a little bit of searching, but finally she was able to find what she was looking for near the back of the store by a paint display. By the time she had gathered up a couple of drop clothes, taken them out of the plastic wrapping, and headed back over to where everyone was grouped, Dean was talking to what sounded like Bobby on the radio and Ellen was standing next to them. Jesse took in the strained expressions on their faces and figured that she probably had a good idea what they were discussing as she made her way over to Jo and set about folding the canvas drop clothes into somewhat comfortable pads.

It was a testament to just how bad off Jo was when all she did was give the younger woman a wry look as Jesse set about trying to make her more comfortable. After a while, as the day seemed to progress and Ellen came over occasionally to check on her daughter, Jesse eventually drifted off to sleep in the somewhat uncomfortable position that she had adopted while seated next to Jo, with her back propped against the side of the counter and her head slumped forward with her chin resting on her chest.

While it was still light out when someone abruptly nudged her awake by none-too-gently jamming their elbow into her ribs, Jesse didn't exactly know what time it was. A quick glance at the Winchesters, and then over Jo, went to show that their situation had not improved one bit during her impromptu nap. Of course, it had to have been Jo who had elbowed her awake, and she didn't miss the suitably grim look that the older woman shot her before she focused her attention on Sam and Dean.

"Stop. Guys, stop," Jo said flatly as she stared directly at the brothers and Ellen. Jesse didn't miss the slightly panicked look that she gave her daughter before she glanced over at Sam and Dean. "Can we, uh, be realistic about this, please?"

Jesse swallowed almost audibly as she turned to stare sharply at the woman who had started to be considered among one of her good friends since their initial meeting, her words sending what felt like ice sliding down into the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, Jesse knew that Jo was not going to walk away from this, just like she had known that night in early November five years before that she was never going to see her uncle again. She shuddered slightly from a combination of fear and cold even as she tried to rationalize things, tried to figure out a way to save Jo's life before she realized that unless she could get an air evac team into Carthage immediately, her friend was going to die one way or another.

Either way, she still wanted to deny the reality of the situation even though she knew that she couldn't.

"I can't move my legs, I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage." At that point, Jesse felt like crying as she wordlessly reached out and slipped her hand under Jo's so the older woman could have some form of comfort as she clenched Jesse's hand tightly. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that the hunter was just as scared, if not more so, than she was. "We gotta- we gotta get our priorities straight here."

Ellen paled significantly at the statement, and Dean and Sam both glanced at each other, doing their silent communication thing before they looked back at Jo. The woman grimaced slightly even as she tightened her hold on Jesse's hand. The artist merely winced at the pressure but didn't do anything else even as Jo spoke once again.

"Number one, I'm not going anywhere," Jo stated flatly, and Ellen sucked in a sharp breath as she faced her daughter almost fearfully.

"Joanna Beth, you stop talking like that."

Part of Jesse agreed with Ellen and she wanted to tell her friend that she shouldn't think that way, but even she couldn't ignore the unhealthy pallor to the other woman's face from blood loss. Even if she or somebody else donated blood, Jo would only bleed out again. She needed to be in surgery or something, not stranded miles from any competent medical treatment.

Jo successfully cut off her mother's protest as she gave her a long, weary look.

"Mom, I can't fight. I can't walk. But I can do something." She briefly flashed the older Harvelle woman a wan smile. "We got propane, wiring, rock salt, and iron nails, everything we need."

Jesse, who had lived with Andy and his pyromaniac tendencies for pretty much her entire life, connected the dots faster than almost anyone else in the room and felt ill. She remembered more than one of her younger brother's ramblings on how to build a bomb, and the differences between something that just went 'boom' and a shrapnel bomb.

Sam gave Jo a somewhat confused look. "Everything we need?"

The female hunter smiled at all of them grimly, and Jesse suddenly wished that she could somehow fix things, that she could prevent this conversation from even starting.

"To build a bomb, Sam."

* * *

From the moment Jo began to lay out her plan, things only went downhill from there. Sam and Dean built the Hellhound-targeted IEDs while Jesse and Ellen sat next to Jo to offer some form of comfort. Jo was forced to order Jesse to leave her side when the time came for them to take out the Hellhounds, and Ellen opted to stay with her daughter. Jesse hugged her friend as hard as she could without hurting her as a goodbye. Ellen told Dean to "Kick it in the ass". And then, once everything was set up and ready to go, Sam was forced to escort Jesse to the second story of the building, where they could all get out through the fire escape.

By the point that Jesse was running down the rickety metal stairway, she felt numb, detached. A small part of her pointed out that she was probably going into shock from the realization that someone who was a friend was about to die. Once they hit the ground, Sam seized her by the upper arm so he could help her keep up with his pace and guide her movement. When they were roughly halfway down the alleyway when the hardware store exploded, the windows shattering in a spray of glass shards as massive flames gushed out of the now-broken windows.

All three of them turned around to watch the explosion as the fire began to take hold in the old brick building, and Jesse felt something inside of her break. This was real. Real people had just _died_ because of this. And here she was in the middle of it.

The Winchesters watched the results of the improvised for a few moments before Sam began to guide Jesse away from the scene, and then they took off running. According to Dean, Bobby said that they needed to be at the sight of a former battlefield before midnight so that they could stop Lucifer from raising the Horseman Death. By the time they had reached the outskirts of town, her mind had begun to clear a little bit.

It was almost like something out of one of Andy's war movies, only with more of a surreal feeling, Jesse realized numbly as she followed Sam and Dean through the underbrush. She'd just seen someone that she thought of as a friend die, although she had no clue whether or not it had been the explosion or Jo's wounds from the Hellhound that had killed her. The woman knew that she was no stranger to death, especially given the number of family members that she had lost over the years, but this time it was completely different. This time she had actually seen someone die, witnessed the event that had stolen their life away, not only been privy to the aftereffects.

Part of her wanted to just curl up in a little ball before she started bawling, but she knew that she couldn't. If she did, then she'd never get out of this town alive.

Suddenly, the two older men stopped in front of her, and Jesse barely managed to come to a stop before she crashed into Sam's back. The hunter slowly glanced back at her with a mildly curious expression, clearly wondering why Jesse was sticking so close to him, although it soon faded when he took in the look of sheer and absolute terror that lurked in the younger woman's eyes, and Sam offered her a weak smile before he turned back around to review the situation. Cautiously, she peered around them, and felt the hairs along the back of her neck prickle with unease as she took in the dozens of men standing rigidly in the field, their attention fixed on something that she couldn't see. Somehow, Jesse got the distinct feeling that she really didn't want to know what they were looking at. And she didn't need anyone to tell her that normal people wouldn't just be standing there in a muddy field while all hell broke loose in their town.

"Guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople," Dean muttered under his breath to his brother, sounding only mildly sarcastic, and Sam nodded once in response.

"Last words?" he asked, and the two exchanged glances even as Jesse bit down on her lip so she wouldn't say what was on her mind. Somehow, she doubted that Gibbs' sage advice of 'Don't die' would be all that appropriate at the moment. That, and she didn't exactly feel like making jokes about death right now.

"I think I'm good."

As the brothers nodded their agreements and stood up before they walked out into the dirt field, with Dean immediately darting off to the side into a copse of trees, Jesse silently offered up a prayer to God – the big man himself, not whichever creepy-ass divine bureaucrat was manning the post – that they would all live through this. She didn't want to die, she didn't want anyone else to die, and she was scared absolutely shitless. Not a good combination at all.

Wordlessly, the woman trailed after Sam as the older man strode recklessly out into the field, where they saw what they had missed previously: Lucifer, at least she _assumed_ it was Lucifer, using an ordinary shovel to fill in what looked to have been a very large hole. The sight, while admittedly normal in some senses, sent a chill down her spine. Probably the most terrifying fact of that effect was that Jesse had no idea _why_.

"Hey!" Sam suddenly shouted as he strode towards the fallen angel, readying the shotgun that he gripped tightly in his hands. "You wanted to see me?"

Satan looked up from his task, a surprisingly placid expression on his face. Nobody sane would ever be that calm if they had a shotgun aimed directly at them by a very cranky hunter with a short fuse and an itchy trigger finger. So, either Satan slightly less than mentally competent after all of his time spent down in Hell, or he wasn't worried at all over the possibility of getting buckshot imbedded in his face. If how their luck had been so far was any indication, Jesse would have bet that he just didn't care. Either way, it did not mean good things for any of them.

"Oh, Sam, you don't need that gun here," Lucifer said in a mildly reproving tone as he took in the shotgun that the younger had aimed in his direction, digging the blade of the shovel into the damp soil where he'd been digging and resting against it slightly before he let it drop to the ground entirely. Jesse, who was very firmly placed behind Sam's back in an effort to stay out of sight, refrained from snorting in disbelief at that statement. "You know I'd never hurt you. Not really."

"Yeah?" Dean growled from where he'd snuck up alongside the Devil, the Colt's barrel leveled directly at the blonde man's forehead at almost point blank range. "Well I'd hurt you. So suck it."

He pulled the trigger, and Satan hit the muddy ground just like any ordinary man as the enchanted bullet tore through his vessel's skull.

For one moment, Jesse's breath caught in her throat as Sam and Dean exchanged looks, an almost palpable sense of relief evident on their faces. Part of her wanted to just sag in sheer and utter relief over the fact that Lucifer was dead. On the other hand, there was a snide voice in the back of her mind – one which sounded surprisingly like Gabriel – that was alternating between all but shouting _Run you idiot_ and _There's no way that __**Lucifer**__ would go down that easy_.

Swallowing nervously as she tried to dismiss the anxiety roiling in her gut, Jesse slowly peered out from her position behind Sam and glanced at the older man.

"Is he dead?" she asked quietly.

Of course, that was the exact moment that Lucifer inhaled sharply before he let out a low groan of pain. "Owwww…"

Jesse felt her blood literally run cold at the sound even as the fallen angel easily got to his feet and turned around to stare at a dumbfounded Dean Winchester in the eyes, a rapidly-healing bullet hole standing out starkly in the center of his forehead even as he briefly put a hand to the injury. If she were to have glanced at Sam, she would have seen that the older man was utterly horrified by the sight. Not that she blamed him. Jesse was fairly certain that she was on the verge of having a heart attack herself.

"Where did you get that?" Lucifer demanded as he indicated sharply to the Colt before he backhanded Dean across the face, sending the hunter flying into a very large and solid tree several yards away in a carelessly effortless display of power. The look of stunned horror on Sam's face didn't fade as he tore his eyes away from his brother's limp form to stare at the fallen angel. Suddenly, Jesse keenly wished that she could employ Harry Dresden's method of dealing with the Fallen even as the snarky voice in the back of her mind belonging to a pain-in-the-ass archangel begged to disagree.

_Oh yeah, great idea. Fantastic, actually. Somehow, I seriously doubt that a foot of concrete and a three-foot diameter silver ring set in the floor of a basement would help matters. And there's no way that you'd be able to seal him to an ancient Roman coin._

"Now, where were we?" Lucifer asked pleasantly.

Operating solely on instinct, Jesse pressed herself close to Sam's back in an attempt to stay the hell out of sight of the creepy-ass fallen angel, her breathing shaky as she tried to fight off the impending panic attack that was slowly creeping upon her. Probably the worst thing was just how soft-spoken Satan was. There was no anger, no rage when he spoke, only a gentle, yet firm voice. And that was probably what scared her more than anything. For pretty much her entire life, Jesse had operated on the concept that the Devil was this wrathful, enraged figure who resided solely within the vague confines of Hell, all fire, brimstone, and hatred. Some kind of terrifying, cosmic force that wanted to rip apart Heaven brick by brick and shred humanity into nothingness.

Not some soft-spoken blonde guy who was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt with some kind of button-down thrown on over it, and work boots, who looked like he could be somebody's dad.

"Don't feel too bad, Sam," Lucifer continued calmly as he stared at his final vessel. "There's only five things in all of creation that gun can't kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I'm almost done."

And with that, the fallen angel turned around and began to throw a few more spades-full of wet dirt into the hole that he was filling in, seemingly ignoring their existence for the time being. Sam used that opportunity to rush over to where his brother had fallen and check his pulse, with a thoroughly-freaked out art student hot on his heels. Of course, that was when the incredibly-_not-_so-helpful voice, which surprisingly, Jesse was gathering some form of comfort from the sardonic words, chose to pipe up with its opinions once again.

_Um, remember that part where I said you should run? You might want to think about doing it soon, maaaybe **now**, cause I don't think that Luci is going to ignore you hiding behind the Sasquatch's back for too long here._

The artist shuddered slightly at the reminder of what she had just been thinking even as she watched Sam check Dean over with clear concern. It was one thing to know that the Winchesters had faced Satan in an attempt to stop the Apocalypse. It was another thing entirely to actually _live_ the event that she had heard about. Silently, Jesse cursed whatever force had dumped her in the middle of the show's variant of the End of Days. She wasn't physically or emotionally strong enough to handle this, and unlike in some of the fanfiction stories that so many people had written, she had been perfectly content with her life at home.

Were there moments when she hated her dead-end hosting job? Hell yes. Did she occasionally want to get away from Andy when he was in a mood? Yes, but that was pretty much typical for any sibling relationship. Not to mention the fact that she hadn't done anything that was typically a pre-requisite for ending up in an alternate reality. She wasn't an asset for the Winchesters though – she had seen as much when Jo had died. If she hadn't been there, the hunter – who had been slowly becoming someone that she saw as a friend – would most likely had not even been injured in the first place since Sam would had been able to help back her up.

Once Lucifer had apparently finished whatever the hell he was doing, he turned around to face them and leaned on the shovel, his expression one of mild curiosity. Needless to say, his calm, unruffled 'I'm not going to hurt anyone' expression still creeped the ever-loving shit out of the younger woman.

"You know, I don't suppose you'd just say yes here and now?" he asked casually, and Jesse was suddenly made very much aware of the fact that she was still standing while Sam was crouched down next to his brother. However, even as she stood stock-still in a vain attempt to not draw the archangel's attention, Jesse noticed how Lucifer never seemed to look directly at her as he continued to speak. It should have been a relief, but somehow it only made the young woman feel even more apprehensive, like something even worse was about to happen. "End this whole tiresome discussion? That's crazy, right?"

Sam slowly stood up and glared at the Devil, a dark expression on his face as he spat out a retort. "It's never gonna happen!"

At the furious rejoinder, Lucifer turned around and went back to filling in his hole like he didn't have a problem in the world.

"Oh, I don't know, Sam. I think it will," he suddenly said mildly without even looking over at the hunter. "I think it'll happen soon. Within six months. And I think it'll happen in Detroit."

It was almost as though the Morningstar had deliberately lit the fuse to the powder keg that was Sam's temper, and Jesse cringed wordlessly under the force of the explosion.

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch," the hunter snarled. "I'm gonna kill you myself, you understand me? I'm going to rip your heart out!"

Oh no, that wasn't a graphic and mentally disturbing image at all. And somehow, she got the feeling that Sam's violent reaction was exactly what Satan had wanted. However, what was possibly even more disturbing was the fact that Lucifer seemed to be amused by Sam's incredibly graphic threat as a low, quiet chuckle escaped from the fallen angel's throat, not even bothering to look up as he continued to shovel dirt into the large pit.

"That's good, Sam," the blonde-haired fallen angel praised in that disturbingly calm voice that set Jesse's teeth on edge for reasons she could barely even comprehend. "You keep fanning that fire in your belly. All that pent-up rage. I'm gonna need it."

Apparently hearing that Satan _wanted_ him to pissed to the eyeballs was exactly what Sam needed to hear to get him to calm down, because the hunter immediately tried to settle down, breathing deeply as he slowly schooled his face into an adequately neutral mask. Still, Jesse felt a shudder race through her body even as she swallowed nervously. There were no words in the English language to properly describe just how frightened she was. Actually, outright terrified was probably a better word, and even then she was pretty much grasping at straws. Ghost children, demons, Hellhounds, cranky archangels/Tricksters… right then, they all paled in comparison to the fact that she was standing a little more than ten yards away from Lucifer.

_Satan_. Light Bringer. Morningstar. Prince of Darkness.

Pants-shitting terror was probably the best description that she could come up with on such short notice.

"What did you do?" Sam suddenly asked, effectively snapping Jesse out of her only slightly panicked stupor. "What did you do to this town?"

Lucifer suddenly gave a soft laugh that sent Jesse's survival instincts into overdrive as she tensed up visibly, her entire body trembling as she fought the very strong urge to just run away. Hell, her dogs probably had more common sense than she did, because they would have been long gone by this point.

"Oh, I was very generous with this town," the fallen angel said kindly as he gave them a faint smile. "One demon for every able-bodied man."

Something inside of Jesse rebelled at that statement. How could _anyone_ just smile about something like that? And what happened to the rest of the people living in Carthage? What about them? Did they manage to escape?

"And the rest of them?" Sam prodded warily. Without warning, Lucifer paused and looked at the youngest Winchester appraisingly.

"In there," he said in an unnervingly calm tone, and Jesse immediately realized that Lucifer wasn't just filling a hole for the ritual to summon Death. He was filling in a _mass grave_. "I know, it's awful, but these Horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first." Jesse felt her gorge rise as she listened to the first of the Fallen speak. He spoke of killing _thousands_ of women and children like it was little more than squashing an ant. "I know what you must think of me, Sam. But I have to do this. I have to. You of all people should understand."

To be bluntly honest, it sounded to Jesse like Satan was trying to sell Sam on his completely Loony-Toons bullshit logic, but at the moment she was still trying to wrap her mind around the whole 'I just killed two-thirds of an entire town and didn't even see a problem with it' attitude. Great, to make things even worse, she was dealing with a sympathetic psychopath who thought that the entire human race wasn't worth the air they breathed. Sam, however, did not seem to be as intimidated as she was, because he just stared flatly at Lucifer, his expression one of tightly restrained disgust.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Lucifer dropped his shovel as he stared intently at the younger man, and then took a step forward towards them. Jesse didn't even have time to react as Sam immediately reached back and planted one hand on her chest before he shoved her backwards, away from Satan. And, of course, as per her usual luck, Jesse landed butt-first in the thick mud behind her with an audible 'squelch' that made her wince. Okay, there was no _way_ that anyone could _not_ have noticed that.

When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat as she realized that not only had she attracted far more attention than she should have, but Lucifer was no longer focused on Sam. Instead, he was staring straight at _her_ with a kind of intense shock, almost as though he thought that she had appeared from thin air. Jesse took all of two seconds to realize that the Fallen was no longer ignoring her, or whatever the hell it had been, and immediately dropped a panicked curse as she began to scramble backwards, trying to get back to her feet so she could follow her original instincts and proceed to run like mad.

Of course, Sam whipped around to look at what had caught the Devil's attention and paled as he seemed to realize that instead of protecting her from Lucifer's attention, he had all but thrown her out in front of him.

"Jesse, run!" he bellowed, and the artist lost no time in preparing to follow his directive as she started to back up, keeping her gaze rigidly fixed on Lucifer.

Who was suddenly… not there… anymore.

Jesse spun around so she could do as Sam had instructed… and found herself staring directly at Lucifer as the fallen angel stood a little more than a foot in front of her, a look of puzzled curiosity on his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side. The movement made Jesse feel like her skin was about to crawl right off her as she clenched her teeth and took a step back, her eyes wide with pure terror as she sucked in a sharp, panicked breath.

"And where did you come from?" the Morningstar asked softly as he stepped towards the thoroughly-terrified art student. "You weren't here earlier. I would have noticed otherwise."

Somewhere in the back of her mind the snarky remark of 'Well then maybe you should get your eyes checked' surfaced, but Jessed was too scared to even think about saying it. All she could do was stand there, completely frozen from fear as she trembled visibly. Any thoughts about running or fighting back, trying to lash out and throw her defiance into his face the way she had with Gabriel were now long forgotten. She was standing less than a foot away from the Devil himself, and all she could do was stand there, shaking like a scared animal.

It was nothing like when she had met Gabriel. Even though the archangel had caused her severe physical harm and honestly scared the shit out of her, dealing with him was nothing compared to what Jesse faced now. While Lucifer looked calm and spoke gently, there was something about him, a hidden darkness, per se, that made Jesse feel like her heart was about to pound right out of her chest. She'd take re-living the entire fiasco in Wellington over this. At least that way she'd be to hell and gone from the fallen angel currently staring at her like he had never seen anything like her before.

Lucifer frowned slightly as he scrutinized her closely, blue eyes narrowing a fraction before he slowly reached out and lifted up the lock of hair that was hanging over Jesse's shoulder and began to curiously run his fingers through the fine light-brown strands. A startled scream tried to wrench its way from her mouth before Jesse clamped her mouth shut, forcing the terrified noise to die off in her throat and she inhaled sharply through her nose, her nostrils flaring. Suddenly, recognition dawned in Lucifer's eyes, and he let the strands of hair slip from his fingers as he stared at Jesse with something akin to surprise before it vanished behind the placid, calm mask.

"I haven't seen one of your kind in… a _long_ time," the Morningstar said softly, although Jesse got the feeling that whatever he was talking about, he didn't mean it as a good thing. The look of deep rage in his eyes though, one that was barely masked by his calm facial expression, did very little to help. "A very long time."

* * *

Yay, I actually updated this within a month or so. Thank god for needing something to de-stress from finals, especially after one finds out that it isn't exactly a fantastic idea for an asthmatic to take a ceramics class. It is never a good thing when you scare the shit out of your teacher because you're gasping like a landed fish because of all the clay dust in the studio.

Anyways, a big shout-out to AuntMo for prodding me into finishing this so I can hopefully get my next chapter posted by Christmas.

So, thank you to Maddy Love Castiel, KaineShade, Bane's Muse, AuntMo, Smiling Loki, EnterClevernessHere, fairytaleluver, Dragons redemption, GenoBeast, and lonewind for all of your splendid reviews.

I wish you all a good and relaxing Christmas break, and Merry Christmas. See you all next chapter.


	13. Chapter 13: That Mourns In Lonely Exile

_It's only cost me everything I had to give_  
_It's only cost me everything I love_  
_And though it's not the way I'd choose to live_  
_I've come too far now to give up_

_And I walk through my days like this_  
_And I take it as it comes_  
_Through my days like this_  
_But I'm holding on_

_I give my hope, I gave my heart, until the two_  
_Were torn apart_  
_I pray tomorrow finds me back where I belong_  
_I gave my heart, I gave my blood, and sill I stand_  
_against the flood._  
_I'm holding on, holding on, I'm holding on_

-"Holding On" by **The Parlor Mob**

**Chapter Thirteen:**

**That Mourns in Lonely Exile Here**

_**Then:**_

_To be bluntly honest, it sounded to Jesse like Satan was trying to sell Sam on his completely Loony-Toons bullshit logic, but at the moment she was still trying to wrap her mind around the whole 'I just killed two-thirds of an entire town and didn't even see a problem with it' attitude. Great, to make things even worse, she was dealing with a sympathetic psychopath who thought that the entire human race wasn't worth the air they breathed. Sam, however, did not seem to be as intimidated as she was, because he just stared flatly at Lucifer, his expression one of tightly restrained disgust._

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

_Lucifer dropped his shovel as he stared intently at the younger man, and then took a step forward towards them. Jesse didn't even have time to react as Sam immediately reached back and planted one hand on her chest before he shoved her backwards, away from Satan. And, of course, as per her usual luck, Jesse landed butt-first in the thick mud behind her with an audible 'squelch' that made her wince. Okay, there was no way that anyone could not have noticed that._

_When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat as she realized that not only had she attracted far more attention than she should have, but Lucifer was no longer focused on Sam. Instead, he was staring straight at **her** with a kind of intense shock, almost as though he thought that she had appeared from thin air. Jesse took all of two seconds to realize that the Fallen was no longer ignoring her, or whatever the hell it had been, and immediately dropped a panicked curse as she began to scramble backwards, trying to get back to her feet so she could follow her original instincts and proceed to run like mad._

_Of course, Sam whipped around to look at what had caught the Devil's attention and paled as he seemed to realize that instead of protecting her from Lucifer's attention, he had all but thrown her out in front of him._

"_Jesse, run!" he bellowed, and the artist lost no time in preparing to follow his directive as she started to back up, keeping her gaze rigidly fixed on Lucifer._

_Who was suddenly… not there… anymore._

_Jesse spun around so she could do as Sam had instructed… and found herself staring directly at Lucifer as the fallen angel stood a little more than a foot in front of her, a look of puzzled curiosity on his face as he tilted his head slightly to the side. The movement made Jesse feel like her skin was about to crawl right off her as she clenched her teeth and took a step back, her eyes wide with pure terror as she sucked in a sharp, panicked breath._

"_And where did you come from?" the Morningstar asked softly as he stepped towards the thoroughly-terrified art student. "You weren't here earlier. I would have noticed otherwise."_

_Somewhere in the back of her mind the snarky remark of 'Well then maybe you should get your eyes checked' surfaced, but Jessed was too scared to even think about saying it. All she could do was stand there, completely frozen from fear as she trembled visibly. Any thoughts about running or fighting back, trying to lash out and throw her defiance into his face the way she had with Gabriel were now long forgotten. She was standing less than a foot away from the Devil himself, and all she could do was stand there, shaking like a scared animal._

_It was nothing like when she had met Gabriel. Even though the archangel had caused her severe physical harm and honestly scared the shit out of her, dealing with him was nothing compared to what Jesse faced now. While Lucifer looked calm and spoke gently, there was something about him, a hidden darkness, per se, that made Jesse feel like her heart was about to pound right out of her chest. She'd take re-living the entire fiasco in Wellington over this. At least that way she'd be to hell and gone from the fallen angel currently staring at her like he had never seen anything like her before._

_Lucifer frowned slightly as he scrutinized her closely, blue eyes narrowing a fraction before he slowly reached out and lifted up the lock of hair that was hanging over Jesse's shoulder and began to curiously run his fingers through the fine light-brown strands. A startled scream tried to wrench its way from her mouth before Jesse clamped her mouth shut, forcing the terrified noise to die off in her throat and she inhaled sharply through her nose, her nostrils flaring. Suddenly, recognition dawned in Lucifer's eyes, and he let the strands of hair slip from his fingers as he stared at Jesse with something akin to surprise before it vanished behind the placid, calm mask._

"_I haven't seen one of your kind in… a **long** time," the Morningstar said softly, although Jesse got the feeling that whatever he was talking about, he didn't mean it as a good thing. The look of deep rage in his eyes though, one that was barely masked by his calm facial expression, did very little to help. "A very long time."_

**Now:**

For a moment, Jesse's mind went blank as she stared incredulously at Lucifer, struggling to comprehend just exactly what he was talking about. What did he mean that he hadn't seen one of her 'kind' in a long time? She was human, and she was no different than anyone else as far as she knew. Besides, if she was something else, the Winchesters would have known after they had done all of the tests on her to see if she was some kind of creeping fugly. Heck, _Castiel_ would have probably known the second that he set eyes on her.

After a second, Lucifer seemed to catch on to the fact that she did not have a bloody clue what he was talking about, and for one moment, Jesse thought that she saw a look of sickening satisfaction flash across the Morningstar's face. However, any speculation of the fact of what she may have or have not seen was swiftly purged from her mind when the fallen angel suddenly reached out and gently caressed Jesse's cheek in the horrifyingly mocking parody of a lover's touch, making the young woman go ramrod straight as she stood stiffly in her spot, eyes wide with visible terror and shudders of revulsion wracking her entire body.

He was _touching_ her! Satan was touching her while she just stood there and shook like a leaf!

"Is this the best that my Father can do?" Lucifer asked softly as he gave Jesse a smug, condescending half-smile, slowly raising his eyebrows as he did so, clearly enjoying her visible horror. "A frightened child?"

There was no answer to his question as the woman continued to stare almost sightlessly at him, her jaw set at she clenched her teeth so hard that it hurt to prevent any noise from escaping. Smirking, the Morningstar turned around and slowly meandered away from Jesse, focusing his attention on his true vessel even as the art student felt as though she was about to faint.

Shortly after that, when Castiel showed up to almost literally pull their asses out of the fire, Jesse was still standing there, almost rigid in shock.

* * *

"Jesse, I need you to grab that book for me, the one on the top shelf with the red cover."

The young woman looked up from the auto parts that she was focused on cleaning before they could be shipped or delivered to the individuals who had ordered them, and immediately set aside the grease-stained red shop rag that she had been using before wiping her hands off on a cleaner rag, and heading over towards one of Bobby's coveted bookshelves. When she saw where the hunter was pointing, she gingerly stepped around a stack of books on the floor and put her hand up near a book that looked like it fit the description.

"This one?"

Bobby huffed slightly with mild annoyance as he further extrapolated upon what he was looking for. "No, not that one. I want the one with the Sumerian writing, not Greek."

Jesse shrugged sheepishly before she scooted over a bit and seized the appropriate book, and then made her way back over to where Bobby was seated before she carefully deposited the book on the table in front of him. The older hunter muttered a gruff 'thank you' as he set to work on the research that a younger hunter had asked for, and Jesse watched him for a moment before she went back to cleaning the auto parts that someone had called and asked for.

In the time after the fiasco in Carthage, life had taken even more of a dramatic change for Jesse than her original arrival in the _Supernatural_ reality in some ways, and settled into a slightly more normal pace for her in others. When Castiel had managed to rescue the Winchesters and Jesse from the site where Lucifer chose to summon Death, Dean had lapsed into what could only be described as depression. He got violently drunk and went outside, where he bellowed himself hoarse as he flung numerous profanity-laced accusations at God, Heaven, and anything else he could think of to blame through the haze of alcohol as he ranted and raved about the deaths of Jo and Ellen, and all of the townspeople in Carthage who had done nothing wrong but live there. Sam, on the other hand, had just moped about, occasionally going outside to try and talk some sense into his brother until Dean finally got fed up with him and punched him in the face.

Bobby, upon seeing the barely-hidden look of shock and terror on Jesse's face as she witnessed Dean's drunken display, had ordered her to stay inside and steer clear of both of the boys. Apparently he had figured out within moments that Jesse not only hated being around arguments that involved copious amounts of shouting, especially with the way she would flinch, but she had also never witnessed someone get absolutely plastered the way Dean had, much less a violent drunk. That night, she'd been chivied up to the bedroom that she had occupied during her previous stay, and hadn't come back down until noon the next day, where she was met with a gruff, but kind, greeting from Bobby and a distracted hello from Sam.

Given the fact that neither one of them had treated her like Judas Iscariot, Jesse could only conclude that Sam had mercifully been unable to hear the little one-sided conversation that Lucifer'd had with her. Although, just from how softly the Morningstar had been when he had spoke, it was entirely possible that not only had Sam been far enough away from them that he hadn't been able to hear the conversation, but also Lucifer hadn't made himself loud enough to be heard when he'd proceeded to scare the every-loving hell out of Jesse. It was something that both relieved her and frightened her at the same time.

To be brutally honest though, the thought kept coming back to Jesse even after the decision was made to leave her at Bobby's while Sam and Dean drove off to do their usual gig: what _had_ Lucifer meant when he'd said that he hadn't seen one of her kind in a long kind? Had he just been trying to scare her, or was there actually something physically wrong with her? Granted, he was _Satan_ after all, and one of his many names was the Prince of Lies. Her best bet was probably to do as her mother had once suggested, and take what the Morningstar had said with a grain of salt, and wash it down with a ton of water. She was fine, honest.

Besides, why on Earth should she believe anything that _Lucifer_ had to say?

Slowly, as she began to adjust to the sudden changes in what now passed as normal for her life after the initial first two weeks of insanity, Jesse began to get acquainted with just _coping_ with reality. It didn't consist of her normal schedule of wake up, go to school, go home, go to work, do homework, and sleep anymore. After Carthage though, it transformed into something where she woke up and went to bed as usual, but instead of school, of learning through classes on art history and drawing, painting techniques, color, and how to breathe life into a charcoal sketch, she spent the days assisting Bobby with whatever he needed.

For the most part, she was the pair of legs and strong back that he used whenever he needed her. She fetched books for him and assisted with research whenever another hunter called and asked for help with whatever god-awful thing had sprung up from the asshole of the world thanks to the Apocalypse. Occasionally she cooked meals that she remembered from home, and then was rewarded with Bobby's incredulity at what she prepared because she was used to eating better and more differently than most people did. For instance, cheese soufflé, while complicated as hell to make, was a cheap meal that only required some form of vegetable as a side, but Bobby had stared at it like Jesse had just put something from outer space on his plate. In the end, the gruff old hunter had liked it, but after that Jesse made a point of clearing whatever she made for dinner with him when she cooked.

Just like she used to do with her parents back at home.

Also, Bobby taught Jesse, who had never really done more mechanic-wise on a car than replace a fan belt on her truck or change a battery or helped to change the oil, how to salvage car parts for his business. And in return, she was the one who cleaned them up and packaged them up for sale, occasionally delivering them to people who had asked for the parts if they lived nearby. The cover story that Bobby had supplied her with, if anyone asked her who she was, consisted of the fact that she was his niece, and she had come up from Arizona to help out after the hunter had become confined to his wheelchair.

Unfortunately, Jesse found out the hard way the first time she went out grocery shopping by herself that her cover, while convenient, opened her up to all sorts of gossip. Apparently Bobby was considered to be the town drunk, and every single damn busybody and their dog in the city limits of Sioux Falls wanted the juicy inside scoop on Bobby Singer's 'niece'. The artist quickly learned that the best way to deal with the gossips was to use the same method that she had learned over time while dealing with her mother's side of the family: plaster a smile on her face and pretend that everything was alright, that she didn't give a rat's ass about how they were trying to hurt her or someone she loved with poisoned words, even while a part of her inside shrieked in outrage over their actions.

The woman's mouth had briefly quirked up into a mirthless smirk when she realized that her experiences with the insane, twisted, and convoluted dealings involving her mother's side of the family – her aunts, grandpa and step-grandmother, cousins, and her grandmother – had prepared her for some of the close-minded idiocy that she was confronted with.

Slowly, as November drifted into December and snow began to coat the surrounding area, Jesse began to fall into a routine of sorts. One day, as she meandered about the back edge of Bobby's property, she stumbled upon a group of high-school age boys playing ice hockey on the frozen pond back there and struck up a friendship with them, going and playing hockey with them when she had a chance from time to time. She dismantled and cleaned car parts as per Bobby's request. Occasionally she went grocery shopping whenever the older man couldn't get to it. She delivered cart parts to people who needed them.

It was routine, a semi-normal method of day-to-day living, but in the end it was a great deal easier on Jesse than the few weeks that she had spent with the Winchesters. They had smothered her with their suspicion, while Bobby let her have a reasonable amount of freedom. And so, time passed.

* * *

Until at roughly ten o'clock at night on December 24th, Jesse looked over at the calendar and realized with a kind of dull shock that it was Christmas Eve.

"Where are you going?"

The woman looked over at Bobby, halfway through shrugging on the new jacket that the hunter had very stubbornly insisted she needed in lieu of the much thinner corduroy jacket that she'd been in possession of before. The dark brown, heavy cotton jacket was a little big on her, even though it was a small, but she wasn't about to complain. It was definitely warmer, that much was certain, and it had a lighter brown hood much like a sweatshirt, only on her jacket it was detachable.

Jesse looked mildly apprehensive before she let out a long sigh and gave the older man a rueful grin as she reached up to rub the back of her neck.

"I was getting ready to go to midnight mass," she admitted quietly, and a single graying eyebrow arched upwards at her words.

"You're joking."

Jesse winced slightly at the older man's flatly disbelieving tone before she gave Bobby a pleading look, one that was a mixture of both exasperation and determination.

"Look, I know that it probably doesn't make much sense to you, but… I need to go," she said quietly before she let out a soft sigh. "This probably sounds stupid, but… my family, every year, we go to mass on Christmas Eve. Once my brother and I got old enough to stay up late and not get cranky over it, we started going to midnight mass… and, even though they're not here… I still want to go."

For a moment, Bobby looked like he wanted to argue against her leaving, before he let out a weary sigh and gave the younger woman a piercing look that spoke volumes of what he thought about her decision.

"Sometimes kid, I don't think I get you," he grumped as he wheeled himself into the hallway. "Got the damned Apocalypse going on, angels trying to kill us all, demons runnin' amuck, and you want to go to _church_."

Brown eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as Jesse laughed quietly. "Well, insanity _does_ run in my family."

The hunter rolled his eyes upwards in response before he made a shooing gesture with one hand, his face set into his typical gruff expression. She knew that the older man was trying not to limit her freedom to an almost stifling extent the way the Winchesters had. It made her time at the salvage yard that much more bearable, and kept her from going stir-crazy.

"Well then git," Bobby muttered as he began to rotate the wheels on his wheelchair so he could go back out into the main room where had had set up residence after losing the use of his legs. "You already have the truck keys."

The young woman stood there for a moment, slightly dumbfounded, before a small smile crossed her face and she nodded.

"Thanks Bobby."

Bobby gave a noncommittal grunt even as she walked out into the frigid midwinter air, carefully shutting the door behind her. For one moment, Jesse stood out on Bobby's front porch, her breath turning white in the nighttime cold as she stared up at the cloud-covered sky, a wave of homesickness and nostalgia washing over her. How many times in her life had she stared up at a winter sky like this, silently wishing for a white Christmas? After a minute or so, the young woman tore her gaze away from the stars and began to trudge across the snow-covered yard towards the old '81 pickup that the old hunter was allowing her to use for the duration of her stay with him. While the faded blue and gray Chevy was hardly in pristine condition, it did two very important things: it ran, and the heater worked.

Jesse sighed quietly as she trudged through the fresh snow that went halfway up her calf, pulling out a pair of fleece-lined leather gloves from her jacket pocket and donning them before she unlocked the driver side door and pulled out the ice scraper that she kept inside the truck. The woman muttered several not-so-nice things about ice and snow under her breath as she worked to scrape the accumulated snowfall off of the windshield, shivering slightly as she worked. She was an Arizona native, born and bred, and for the first time in her life she was exposed to winter weather 24/7. No wonder her dad had hated living in Michigan during the winter growing up.

Shoveling off the sidewalk, clearing the driveway, scraping ice and snow off of the car whenever she needed to drive somewhere… it really was a pain in the ass. And if she had ever thought that Arizona in the winter was cold, well, North Dakota was a thousand times worse.

It took a few minutes, but Jesse finally finished up and hopped into the vehicle before she started up the engine, letting the car warm up as she sat there and shivered. It was colder than all get out – she had absolutely no desire to say hell anymore, not after what she had seen – and if she was going to freeze her ass off outside, then she fully intended on doing it out in front of the church.

Sioux Falls had a multitude of Catholic churches scattered throughout the town, but the one closest to Bobby's was a small one, and by the time Jesse had arrived roughly ten minutes before midnight, it was packed. The young woman lingered inside near the back of the church for a few minutes before the unmistakable, incredibly strong scent of incense burning hit her, and Jesse paled slightly as her nostrils flared. Back home, it was practically tradition for her family to stand outside instead of sitting in one of the pews, and the incense was the exact reason for it. Travis always said that it was supposed to drive away evil, and then he'd flash her that devil-may-care smirk that she'd grown up knowing before he mused that they must have known he was coming. Her mom would crack jokes that they were burning a brick of hash inside. Both her father and Andy got raging headaches from the incense, and once Travis had even passed out during an Easter service when he hadn't managed to exit the chapel after communion fast enough.

Fortunately, they'd been with Max at that time, so he'd been able to help Jesse and Andy catch his brother before he concussed himself.

For the most part, the heavily-scented smoke just set off Jesse's asthma, so she typically elected to stay outside in lieu of coughing up a lung. The woman looked up at the altar for a moment, her eyes focusing on the wooden representation of Jesus on the cross, before she retreated back outside into the single-digit weather. She'd rather freeze her ass off outside than have an asthma attack, even if Bobby had managed to get a nebulizer and medication for her with his doctor contact.

Jesse stood there out in the cold for several seconds before she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she listened to the mass start up. As she let the music wash over her, her mind drifted off to the previous Christmas, where she had been standing outside by the church doors with her family and allowed her mind to drift. If she kept her eyes closed, she could almost pretend that she was back out in front of her church, sandwiched in between her mom and Andy as the music wafted out to them in the bitterly cold night.

"O come o come Emanuel…" she sang softly, her voice hanging eerily in the snowy night as she followed the people singing inside. "To free your captive Israel. That mourns in lonely exile here, until the Son of God appear."

Her voice wasn't great, but it didn't exactly make dogs start howling either. She just didn't like singing in front of other people; singing in church was the only exception, 'cause nobody cared about your voice in there.

"You know, most sane people stand _inside_ the church when it's snowing like this," someone remarked tartly from behind her, and the woman sighed heavily as she opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at Gabriel. Part of her was surprised by the archangel's abrupt appearance, and yet another part of her was annoyed at the same time.

"Is that bitching that I hear?" she finally commented offhandedly as she returned her gaze to the church in front of her, deliberately keeping her tone light. "Huh, I would have thought that oversized ego of yours would keep you warm. Guess not."

There was a low growl of irritation from behind her, which Jesse pretended to ignore as she began to drum her fingers against her right thigh in an approximation of the rhythm to the song being sung inside the church. The frigid winter air stung the exposed skin on her wrist when the cuff of her jacket pulled back slightly from the movement, but the repetitive movement gave her some measure of comfort. It was actually a sign of just how nervous she was, and a remnant of her days in band. However, Jesse was bound and determined _not_ to let the angel get a rise out of her, and flat-out ignoring him seemed to be the best way to go.

For a few moments, it was blessedly silent, and Jesse shoved her hands into jacket pockets to protect them from the nippy air. She knew that Gabriel hadn't left though, due to the tension in the air and the way that fine hairs along the nape of her neck prickled from the force of the glare being leveled her way. Jesse kept on ignoring the seething archangel behind her as she tried to listen to the sounds of the mass being projected out into the little courtyard, although the tentative peace was abruptly shattered by a sharp whistle, quickly followed by a scornful laugh.

"_Wow_, I have to say, I just _love_ the Winchester Special you're sporting tonight," the former pagan derided as he pointedly looked the young woman up and down, taking in what she was wearing with his lip twisted up into a visible sneer. "So, tell me, you going to start acting like the muttonheads as well as dressing like them?"

Jesse flinched slightly at the taunt, for she was no longer wearing any of her old clothes. Instead, she was wearing a gray men's Henley, with a russet and green flannel button-down thrown over, and topped off with the dark brown jacket she'd gotten recently, as well as a durable pair of jeans and a pair of battered dark leather work boots. It was all durable clothing that she wouldn't get too upset about if it got ruined, and she basically looked like any hunter out there – a far cry from the college student who wore semi-fitted jeans and Converse.

It was a cheap shot, and Jesse knew it, but she was already sick of the angel trying to annoy the hell out of her for no clearly discernable reason. She didn't _want_ to be here. She was tired, and all she had wanted to do tonight was to _attempt_ to forget the fact that it was Christmas, and she was facing the very real possibility of never being able to see her family again. It didn't help that part of her felt like crying over the sheer feeling of _loss_ that tried to overwhelm her whenever she remembered her family. And that was all it took to light the fuse on the woman's temper as she gritted her teeth and let out a low, aggravated growl.

"Oh, for the love of-! Just… leave me alone before I tie your sorry ass to the top of the closest Christmas tree!" she snapped irritably as she rounded on Gabriel. "Can't I just have one day where you don't bug the shit out of me, just one?"

"December 19th, 2009," Gabriel suddenly said flatly as he stared intently at Jesse, his eyes narrowed slightly.

The younger woman had been about to try and focus on the Christmas service once again before the angel had spoken, and she stopped short as she slowly turned around to face him.

"What?" she asked quietly as she quirked an eyebrow and canted her head slightly to the side as she shot the older man an uncomprehending look. "What are you talking about?"

Gabriel shot her a look that very plainly said he thought she was a moron.

"December 19th, 2009. You asked for one day one when I didn't bug you. As I can recall, I wasn't anywhere near you, your thoughts, or your dreams, not any of it," he concluded almost matter-of-factly, although there was a barely-there smug undertone to his words. "You can also include November 21st, 24th, and 29th, along with December 1st, 3rd, and 8th. And since I had personally never met you before November 5th, 2009, you can also add all the days of your life before that point."

A chill washed over the young woman for a moment as her eyes widened, and it took every ounce of self-restraint that she possessed to keep from shuddering. Okay, that was more than a little creepy that Gabriel knew when he had been in her dreams, or when she had had thought about him. That sounded way too much like stalking to her, and to be honest, it kind of scared her. Jesse stared at the archangel point-blank for a moment, her expression utterly deadpan even as she pressed her lips together thinly before she shook her head and let out an utterly disgusted sigh of aggravation. She refused to let Gabriel see just how much his statement had unnerved her.

"Very funny, Mister Smartass," she grumbled under her breath as she rolled her eyes before she returned her attention to the pain in her ass standing not even four feet away from her. "Allow me to rephrase my question then: why are you bothering me _today_, out of all days? Don't you have anything better to do, like, oh, I don't know, bog goblins, or announce that today a savior is born to some shepherds?"

An odd expression flickered across Gabriel's face at the remark, a mixture of nostalgia, regret, and amusement all bundled up into a single look before he flashed her a smug, all knowing smirk that absolutely set the woman's teeth on edge.

"Nah, sorry, no announcements like that. That was over 2,000 years ago, remember?" he said knowingly. "I've already been there, done that."

The woman pulled a face at that and rolled her eyes. Why, out of all of the several _billion_ people on the planet, was she the one unlucky enough to have a pagan god/archangel following almost her every move? And a smartass one at that. It was enough to give any sane individual a headache.

Actually, she was fairly certain that Gabriel's abrasive personality would drive even a saint to violence.

"Cute," Jesse finally remarked almost tonelessly. "Real cute." She paused for a moment and frowned as she glanced over at the former pagan. "Look, can you just give me a straight answer on why you're following me? In case you haven't noticed, I kind of want to be left alone right now."

The archangel stared at her for a moment, a single golden-brown eyebrow raised as he looked at the art student askance, that odd, perpetual little half-smirk that seemed to be ever-present no matter what still lingering on his mouth.

"Why, so you can keep on moping in the snow while the sane people inside are nice and warm?" Gabriel snarked as he crossed his arms over his chest, a slightly vicious tint to his expression.

The jab definitely hit home as Jesse stared at the male for a moment, struggling not to show just how much the remark had startled her. It was more than a little eerie at how he'd made the comment, like she wasn't one of the sane people. And then the woman paled slightly as she remembered the flippant remark that she had made to Bobby only half an hour before, when she had jokingly commented that insanity ran in her family. Had he been watching her before she had even gone to mass? She shuddered at the thought before she closed her eyes and sighed.

"You know what, I don't even know why I'm surprised," she muttered quietly as she opened her eyes and stared at the 'Trickster' with something closely akin to resignation. She gave a soft, short laugh that contained absolutely no humor as she shook her head. "I mean, really… After all of the shit I've dealt with, and… wow. Just… _wow_." Jesse looked the angel standing right in front of her dead in the eyes, a slightly pained expression on her face. A memory of a frantic, emotionally distraught teenager standing outside at two in the morning, begging for any divine presence to intervene on the behalf of a family member came to mind, and even with five years of distance between herself and the adolescent she had once been, Jesse still felt her stomach twist into knots. She still remembered the very stunned and horrified revelation that she had stumbled across when she had returned inside, only to find that no amount of praying could save someone she loved. How God and angels didn't give a flying _fuck_ about the desperate prayer of a single human being. "Seventeen years old, scared out of my mind and grieving like no other, and I was _right_. You, all of you, are _dicks_." She snorted. "I should have known."

Not surprisingly, Gabriel looked more than a little indignant at the insult that she had just let slip out like she didn't care about what the results would be. Actually, indignant wasn't so much the word that she was looking for as it was pissed. And the expression of pure fury that had briefly flashed across Gabriel's face was definitely a good indication of that.

"_What_?" he hissed, and any fear that Jesse may have felt over the fact that she had a legitimately pissed-off archangel glaring at her like he was only a few seconds away from smiting the crap out of her was covered up by the sense of defeat and numb exhaustion that seemed to follow her everywhere nowadays. She wasn't scared, at least not in the mind-numbingly terrified way that she had been back in Carthage.

"It's true. You… _none_ of you give a crap about what's going on down here," the woman said as she indicated meaningfully to the area around her. "Heaven, Hell, everyone's playing their own games and screwing around with what's supposed to happen just because they're tired of the responsibility and want to shove the whole mess into Dad's lap." Jesse smiled bitterly. "And the angels… all you guys see us as is a bunch of your Dad's little toys, and that's only when you're being _nice_. The other ninety percent of the time, we're just a waste of space and oxygen according to you lot, plumbing on two legs."

For a being of unfathomable celestial power who only resided in a human vessel to not make people keel over at the very sight of him, Gabriel displayed a very good grasp on human emotion and the needs of a physical body as he sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth and flushed slightly from what could only be anger as he glared at her. It probably had something to do with the past two thousand years he had spent on Earth, hiding among the pagans. He looked like he would have loved nothing more than to banish her to some far-off place where she would die a slow and painful death, the fingers on his right hand twitching madly in the obvious desire to snap them and shunt her off to some long-forgotten hellhole. Instead, he settled for one hand snapping out to seize her by the front of her jacket before he hauled the human woman closer to him, his face set into a tight mask of barely restrained rage.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about my family like that!" he hissed venomously, fingers digging deep into thick, textured cotton fabric as he glowered at Jesse. "You know _nothing_ about me, or any of my brothers, so don't you _dare_ talk about us like you even have a _clue_ about anything. And don't you even think about lumping me in with the rest of my family. I've been here down on Earth for longer than your linear little mind could even _comprehend_," Gabriel punctuated his remark with a small shake. "Despite what you may think, I only treat humans poorly when they _deserve it_, and hey, I can't help it if most of them do." He paused momentarily before he flashed the woman an infuriatingly smug smirk. "But hey, you've seen the _Spearmint Rhino_, right?" Gabriel paused briefly as he looked the young woman up and down, taking in the clearly confused expression on her face that indicated she had absolutely no clue what the hell he was talking about, before he let out a harsh laugh, his tone deeply sarcastic. "That would be a no, wouldn't it? Wouldn't surprise me, you being one of the many Mother Teresa's of the world. And _wow_. Naive and idealistic – tell me, how the hell have you kept the world from eating you alive?"

Brown eyes narrowed sharply at the multiple insults, both to her faith, her morals, and the character of humanity in general, and Jesse twitched slightly, her hands balling into fists at her sides as she looked like she dearly wanted to punch the angel in the face, or do something even worse. After all, he was in a male vessel, and angel or not, he still had a male's weakness. Hurting her knee would be _worth_ it at this point.

"At least we _try_," she ground out. "Which is more than what I could say for you."

Gabriel canted his head to the side slightly as he smirked at her before he roughly let go of the young woman's jacket, and she stumbled back a few steps. Jesse quickly regained her bearing though, and she adopted a stiff position as she straightened up and stared at the angel steadily. For some reason, that seemed to amuse him, because he flashed her a humorless smile that was all teeth, the warning gleam in his green-gold eyes pure Loki.

"You might want to stop assuming things about me," he remarked almost casually in a tone that sent chills down Jesse's spine, which she attempted to stave off by standing up even straighter. "Clearly you haven't learned your lesson from the last time."

The woman almost bristled at the nonchalant threat before she sucked in a deep, steadying breath in an effort to calm herself, ignoring the way the freezing cold air burned at her mouth and lungs when she inhaled.

"What are going to do, smite me?" Jesse asked rhetorically, her arms crossed tightly over her chest and pressing into her ribcage as her hands clenched at the fabric of her jacket almost desperately even as she stared at the infuriated angel with a hard glint to her eyes. "Go right ahead, because you know what, there's nothing that you can do to me that is worse than what I'm already living through right now. I mean, I'm up to my eyeballs in the Apocalypse, and I'm seeing and actually _interacting_ with things that I've never even _dreamed_ of, much less read about." The woman made a sharp gesture as she held her hand up eye level before she let it drop down to her side and stared challengingly at Gabriel. "But the worst thing, and I do mean the absolute worst, is the fact that I know my entire _family_ is probably having a collective heart attack right now. I mean, I've been missing for almost two months now – my parents probably think that I'm dead, or _worse_. And I know that no matter how badly I want to call them and tell them that I'm okay, but hey, I can't come home yet because fate's being a bitch, I _can't_." She forced that last part out through bared teeth, a mixture of anger and despair on her face as she struggled to reign in her emotions. "My parents are probably expecting to find my body dumped somewhere out in the middle of the desert, or at the bottom of Tempe Town Lake, or something. But they'll never find a body. And if I die here, they still won't have a body. They'll never know what happened to me, and I _know_ that. Now that… that's my own personal hell, putting my family through that kind of crap and not being able to fix a damn thing."

For one moment, Gabriel looked like he wanted to say something as he stared at her like he had never seen something like her before. It was a fleeting expression though, and for one moment, Jesse briefly thought that behind the snarky, caustic mask that the archangel wore, she could see a flicker of surprise and maybe even... panic? But before she could even question it, whatever she had thought she'd seen was gone, and Gabriel stared at her for a moment before he gave a disbelieving snort.

"You seriously believe that?" he asked, his tone deeply cynical. "Why?"

Jesse tilted her head to the side as she looked at him oddly before she shook her head and sighed, deciding that arguing with a being millennia older than her just wasn't worth it. Well that, and she was already more emotionally exhausted than she would ever care to admit.

"Do you even know what it feels like… to, to be so in over your head that you just…" At this, the woman trailed off, looking utterly lost and so close to just breaking down that it was scary. Instead of the defiant, furious, and utterly immobile human being that Gabriel remembered from his previous dealings, she looked exhausted and almost fragile, like she was about to shatter right then and there in the church courtyard from the pressure. "Look, just think of this way. I'm hanging by my fingertips off a ledge… over the friggin' Grand Canyon, and two to three inches of dirt is all that's between me and a free fall all the way down to the Colorado River." Jesse gave the archangel a strained, slightly bitter smile as she held up her pointer and middle fingers on her right hand. "Two to three inches, and then I'm freefalling. No one's going to save me, no waking up, nothing. Once I slip, I'm gone."

After several moments of deafening silence, Gabriel quirked an eyebrow incredulously as he gave the woman a firmly disbelieving look, twisting his head slightly to the side as though he could get a better look at just what exactly was running through her head that way. Slightly unnerved, Jesse drew back and watched the runaway archangel with extreme caution. She was rudely reminded of the fact that she was not only standing in close proximity to the archangel Gabriel, who had once struck a man dumb for his doubt and brought about the destruction of Sodom, but also the Norse trickster deity, Loki, who was well-known for his own less than kind actions as well.

So, not exactly someone that most sane people would intentionally smart off to.

"And just _why_ can't you call your family?" Gabriel asked abruptly, his tone borderline sarcastic as he raised an eyebrow and shot her a deeply skeptical look. "It shouldn't be that hard. Even I know how to use a phone."

"And you were probably the first person to ever crank call Alexander Bell," the artist shot back wearily as she reached up with one hand to absentmindedly massage the side of her head with the tips of her fingers as a dull ache began to make its presence known. She really didn't need this kind of stress right now. All she wanted was to be left alone, or, even better, to be able to go home.

"You're avoiding the subject," Gabriel pointed out, and Jesse looked up and gave the insensitive, aggravating archangel the best possible approximation of her dad's infamous 'piss me off and _die_' glare.

"And why do you even pretend to _care_?" she growled. "My family is none of your damned business."

A single eyebrow rose upwards skeptically as Gabriel frowned at her. "And you're still not giving me a straight answer."

Jesse literally _growled_ as she glared at the angel, anger and frustration clouding her judgment as she almost literally blew a gasket.

"It's complicated as _hell_, and absolutely _none_ of your bloody business! I don't get it, just what is it with you guys?" she demanded as she jabbed a finger at Gabriel, teeth bared slightly as she glared at the archangel. "Why the hell do you all seem to think that I'm some kind of strange… _thing_ to be examined or something? First Cas, then you, and now, as the icing on the bloody cake, even _Satan_ seems to think that I'm, and I quote 'weird'! I have had it up to here with being _stalked_ by angels! Well, here's some news for you, bub: _stop_ following me around! Got it? I am _sick_ and _tired_ of being stalked by an angel who doesn't give a flying rat's ass about my collective well-being!"

Jesse was so worked up as she didn't even notice the brief flash of shock on Gabriel's face when she mentioned that she had been in close contact with the Devil, as well as the way he paled slightly. She was a bit more concerned with attempting to restrain her temper so she wouldn't lose it and punch an archangel right in the face. Generally not a good idea, even if he was being an arrogant ass.

"You met Lucifer?"

The question was so quiet that she almost missed it, but the way Gabriel said it stopped the woman in mid-rant as she looked at him strangely and cocked an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah, I did…" she said slowly. "Kind of hard to forget, actually, especially since I was so scared out of my mind when he started talking to me, while standing less than a foot away from me and _touching me_, that I almost had a friggin' heart attack."

The older man stared at her for a moment, an indescribable look on his face. "What did he say?"

Jesse stopped dead for a moment, her brain not quite computing what had just been said, before she crossed her arms over her chest defensively and shuddered slightly. It was not something that she particularly enjoyed remembering, and had actually done her damndest to shove into the furthest corner of her mind. Not that she had exactly succeeded, but she had tried. There was no reasonably feasible way that she could describe just how terrified she had felt while facing the Morningstar, or how tainted she had felt afterwards. Even now, just over a month later, sometimes she could still feel the phantom touch of the fallen archangel, which of course would bring to mind the smug, triumphant expression he had sported when he'd realized that the art student was completely and utterly scared shitless of him. It was something that had honestly both terrified and disgusted her at the same time.

No matter what situation she was in, Jesse hated being a coward, but even now she suspected that her apparent cowardice was what had saved her life. Somehow, she didn't think that Lucifer would have let her leave Carthage alive if she had told him to fuck off, go blind, and die the way that part of her in the back corner of her mind had been screaming at her to do instead of standing there and all but shitting herself in terror like a helpless little girl.

When Gabriel looked at her meaningfully, his expression tinged with annoyance, the young woman reached up and rubbed the back of her neck with her right hand, a somewhat dead look in her eyes before she shook her head slightly to dispel the morbid thoughts running through her head and looked the impatient archangel in the eyes.

"Something about how he hadn't seen one of my kind in a long time," she finally admitted quietly, looking thoughtful for a little bit before her mouth twisted up into a bitter smirk and her tone became so purely sarcastic that it was hard to ignore. "Now granted, that doesn't exactly make much sense, because last time I checked, about 51 percent of the Earth's population is female. Either that, or he was talking about how he'd never seen a short, sarcastic Irishwoman who looks like a kid and isn't afraid to tell an angel to go pound sand."

Gabriel shot her a sharp look at that, almost as though he wasn't pleased by the sarcastically flippant remark, although he also appeared somewhat disconcerted by it as well. Jesse raised an eyebrow slowly as she glanced at him slightly before she shook her head and fished a knit beanie out of one of her jacket pockets, fingering the cream and brown wool before she decided that she'd had enough of the cold and pulled it on. One of the people who she had delivered parts to within the past month had been an elderly woman who had ordered the auto part as a surprise for her son, who was restoring a classic car. She had been in the middle of a knitting project when Jesse had shown up, and had insisted that the artist stick around so she could finish the hat that she was working on once she'd realized that Jesse didn't have one of her own. To be honest, Jesse thought that she was lonely, especially since the woman, one Mrs. Mullroy, had plied her with milk and fresh-baked cookies to keep her around until the beanie had been completed.

Not that she had minded, to be honest. The homemade gingerbread that she had been given had been fantastic, to be honest, and the taste had reminded her of the molasses cookies that her dad would bake from time to time using his grandmother's recipe. However, at the same time, it had also made her miss her family even more.

"Bullshit," Gabriel suddenly said without warning, and Jesse gave him an annoyed look before she looked away and rolled her eyes at his attitude.

"Just because you say that it isn't true doesn't mean that it didn't happen," she muttered wearily as she fought back the urge to make a smart remark about how most people with an ounce of common sense didn't claim to have God-awful repetitive nightmares about events that had never happened. Not that she was going to share that particular tidbit with Gabriel. Ever. He was already being enough of an ass to begin with. The last thing she needed to have was him mocking her for having nightmares or anything else.

Actually, between what the abrasive archangel had done when she had originally arrived, the ghosts at the converted Gore Orphanage, and the shitstorm that had gone down in Carthage, nights where Jesse actually had a decent night's sleep were incredibly few and far between. She didn't suddenly shoot awake and start hyperventilating, or roll straight out of bed while trying to escape from whatever she was having a nightmare about, or even wake up feeling like she was about to scream bloody murder anymore, but waking up in a cold sweat and feeling like she was about to be seriously ill was pretty much the norm for her now. While Jesse had always frequently joked that she had been scarred for life at a young age thanks to her dad's influence, as well as his never-ending supply of innuendos, it had always been just that, a joke.

There was a huge difference between the emotional trauma of knowing in intimate detail on how she had been conceived underneath the Christmas tree thanks to her father, and which sadly enough, made sense since she had been born in late September, and knowing what it felt like to be _impaled_ on a pike and die. And then, of course, there was the ever-so-fun part where after that, a pissed off archangel, the self-same one standing in front of her out in the snow in the wee hours of Christmas Day and trying to pry information out of her, went and threw her into another scenario where she would die a horrific and painful death once again. Of course, as per her usual luck, he didn't believe that she'd had a close encounter of the creepy kind with his older brother.

No, if she ever got out of this alive, Jesse was fully aware of the inevitable fact that she was going to need some kind of therapy for what she had been through. However, she also knew that the only kind of counseling that hunters ever got without being sent to the psychiatric ward were provided by Jim, Jack, José, and associates. And she did _not_ want to become an alcoholic just so she could deal with the things that she had seen, especially since she was already in enough danger without being inebriated.

God help her if she was ever _drunk_ and in trouble.

"You know what?" she finally said quietly as she gave Gabriel a frustrated look before she made a sharp cutting motion with her right hand. "Believe me, don't believe me, I don't care anymore. I'm so sick and tired of trying to convince people that I'm telling the truth when they all want to believe that I'm lying my ass off. All I want is to go home, and the only way that'll happen is if I get a miracle, which isn't going to happen, especially with my luck. So just… just leave me alone."

The angel frowned slightly, his eyebrows knitting together as he tilted his head to the side just a fraction before a somewhat smug look crossed his face, and his typical cocksure attitude manifested as he straightened up and grinned broadly at Jesse, rocking back on his heels as he did so. Jesse felt the bottom of her stomach drop out as she swallowed and eyed Gabriel warily with a hesitant, nervous smile. All of her previous experiences involving the runaway archangel dictated that she not only run as fast as she could in the opposite direction, but that she also go camp out inside a circle of _holy oil_. For the next year, inside a fully stocked, angel-proofed warehouse, with the appropriate hygienic amenities.

After all, the last thing that she needed was to wind up in _more_ trouble with an archangel than she'd already had to deal with. First Gabriel, and then Lucifer. In fact, all she needed now was for Michael and Raphael to show up and make her life even more miserable than she already was. Hell, then she could claim that she'd managed to piss off all _four_ of the archangels!

For some inexplicable reason, Gabriel briefly flashed her a smug, impish smirk even as he sharply tilted his head to the side and took a jaunty step towards her.

"Alrighty then! You want to be left alone, kiddo?" he chirped, his lips stretched into a wide grin that showed his teeth as he raised his eyebrows. "Fine, I'll leave you alone to stew in your own, miserable juices."

Jesse stared at him flatly before she let out a disgusted snort and shook her head.

"_Wow_," the younger woman said, a strained laugh escaping from her mouth as she reached up and tucked a lock of hair that had fallen into her eyes behind one ear. "You know, for someone who was supposed to be the Messenger, the one who spread the joy of the news of God's son being brought to the world, you sure are one grumpy, miserable son of a bitch."

Gabriel's eyes widened in shock at the remark as he clamped his mouth shut, his nostrils flaring as he sucked in a sharp, furious breath. The angel looked like he was roughly two seconds away from busting out the 'smite' button at her remark, but Jesse straightened up and set her shoulders, readying herself to deal with the fallout of her words. She knew that she was far from perfect herself, but sometimes there were some things that just needed to be said.

"I don't know what your problem is, why you seem to hate my guts, or anything else. But you know what? Who am I to even try and _guess_?" The artist gave him a bitter smile as she shrugged stiffly. "After all, I know what it feels like to have a fucked-up family. It sucks ass, to be honest." Jesse sighed as she jammed her hands into her jacket pockets, her face scrunched up in a somewhat musing expression. "But, the difference between you and me? I've gotten over it, and I don't take it out on everyone else when they remind me of my family. So, do the rest of the world a favor and pull your head out of your ass."

For one moment, the archangel looked like he had just been slapped before he seemed to regain his senses and glared at her, his eyes narrowing angrily.

"Don't you _dare-_" he snarled, but Jesse cut him off as she shot the older male a sharply reproving look.

"You know, it's a very human reaction to get angry when you hear something that you don't like," she pointed out reasonably, although on the inside she was practically shaking in terror over the thought of what Gabriel could do to her if she infuriated him enough. "Especially when it's true. Personally, I think that you're just jealous."

The archangel jerked slightly in surprise before he stared at her like she was out of her mind.

"_Jealous_?" Gabriel bit out incredulously. "Of _what_? What in my Dad's name is going through your crazy little brain to make you think that I'm jealous?"

For a moment, the art student just smiled faintly before the expression disappeared behind a sad, almost placidly depressed mask.

"I think that you're jealous because the Winchesters would do anything for each other, even die for each other, while your brothers didn't even bother to go look for you after you ran away," Jesse said before she shrugged. "Granted, I'm not a psychology major, so I could be wrong. After all, I was just going off of a hunch." She glanced up at the speechless archangel and offered him a sad, wholly unsatisfied smile that showed she took absolutely no pleasure from stating those words. "But, if the look on your face is any indication, I know that I just hit a sore spot somewhere."

Copper-green eyes widened sharply in shock at the remark, and Jesse decided to get while she still had the opportunity to leave before she was reduced to a bloody pulp. With a sigh, the younger woman turned around and began to head back towards the church so she could at least hear the end of the sermon. Well that, and maybe hope that she hadn't missed communion. As she strode through the thick snow, Jesse heard the sound of movement behind her and let her head drop as she sighed heavily. She was already worn out, and the last thing she needed was to get into another argument.

"Look, Gabriel, I don't want to be involved with Heaven or the Apocalypse anymore than you do," Jesse said quietly. "I just want to be left alone, that's all. Please don't make me have this conversation again." Almost in afterthought, she paused and looked over her shoulder at the older male and gave him a weary, almost defeated smile. "Besides, I hardly think that I'm worth all of the attention that I've been receiving."

With that, Jesse Harper turned back around and disappeared into the warm interior of the Catholic church, leaving behind a stunned and confused Messenger standing out in the falling snow. And yet, at the same time, somewhere in the back of Gabriel's mind, he realized that the human woman still hadn't answered his question on why she hadn't called her family to tell them that she was okay. Which, of course, led to the fact that even more questions sprang up as he thought of how Jesse had phrased her statement.

Even now, something told him that the woman didn't quite fit into the equation, somehow.

* * *

Hello… *heaves a huge sigh of relief* I can't believe that I managed to make this deadline. First of all, my work is trying to kill my soul, I swear. Second, tonight, while I was online chatting with my beta, AuntMo, my laptop died on me. I just about _shit_ myself in the process of trying to figure out what the hell happened. So, my next stop within the next day or two? Figure out what the hell just happened, and either go to Staples to get my laptop fixed, or find a way to salvage _all_ of my data, and get a new laptop. So, in other words, fuck my life. First, I get into an accident a month ago and my truck, which I bloody _adored_ is declared totaled, so now I have to bum a ride from my friends or roommate. The insurance company is trying to screw me over, big time. My boss is an ass, and I think I failed a class this semester. Oh, and I have to have enough to pay tuition for the next semester. So to add _this_ to the already massive pile of shit that I have to deal with, I'm only _slightly_ stressed out right now.

Anyways, personal rant asides, thank you to all who have reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story. Thanks to Smiling Loki, Maddy Love Castiel, AuntMo, Maya, KaineShade, SpaceHead3, ephemeral violet, Kali-WolfChilde, TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel, PhoenixRage92, fairytaleluver, , and Laci Cullen.

Merry Christmas everyone.

Since I don't know how long it will take me to fix things, I don't know when I'll update next.


End file.
